Thor's Slayers
by CzarZelinsky
Summary: Thor knows more about Earth's exotic wildlife than Stargate Command could have imagined. Thor decides to rectify that situation. SG-1 might be a little better if they just had some Faith. (Buffy/Angel/SG1/SG:A Characters. Story could become M in the future.) [TS has not been scrapped, only placed on the back burner while I recharge and begin WotE]
1. Part I - Unexpected Guests

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Thor's Slayers  
** **~ Part** **I ~**

 **###**

 **Chapter One**

 _ **Unexpected Guests**_

* * *

 **Timeline:** Thor's Slayers takes place almost immediately after Chosen, the Buffy series finale, and in the early seventh season of Stargate: SG-1.  
 **Main Characters:** With Jonas gone, SG-1 will be back to its original team of Jack, Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c whereas the central character from Buffy: The Vampire Slayer will be Faith. It's possible I will add more BtVS characters as I go on, but I have nothing planned yet.  
 **Rating:** T+ for now because Faith. I don't anticipate anything naughty, but I expect more than a little foul language. It's possible I'll move it up to M later because Faith, and even if I don't anticipate any explicit scenes, it is Faith we're dealing with and there are a great many good looking men _and_ women there.  
 **Disclaimer:** I am not Joss Whedon and I am neither Roland Emmerich nor Dean Devlin, they are the ones that built the wonderful television shows that inspired this fanfic.

 **Author's Notes:** I have written two fanfiction stories before this and received great feedback on them so I thought I'd move on from Star Wars AU to a crossover story. I was tempted to keep doing Star Wars, but hey, I love Buffy and SG-1 and thought I'd see what I can do with it. Warning, I haven't done a crossover story before so keep that in mind if this turns into a trainwreck. I have seen all of SG-1 and BtVS, but it _has_ been a while, so it's very possible that I'll mess some of the canon/timelines.

I really liked season seven of SG-1 because the story had progressed so far but you were still left with the original team and the Buffy series finale gives a very open and ambiguous future. While I've combed through the Buffy comic sequels, I haven't directly read them, so I'm just going to ignore them. I'm still debating internally on whether I want to follow SG-1 canon (a serial plot following the 7th season TV plots) or branch off entirely. Please give me feedback, especially if I mess up facts or to give me pointers. Well, here goes nothing. I'm also still debating whether I just want this to be a quick meet and greet or if I really want to develop this story.

 **Update: 12/4/16** \- Minor corrections performed as well as adding a time for the story to begin. Chosen, the final episode of BtVS aired on May 20, so my story will be giving a couple weeks breather here. In relation to Angel, there is going to be some slight discrepancy because the end of AtVS was three weeks before Chosen, with them joining Wolfram  & Hart.

* * *

#

 **June 12th, 2003**

Jack O'Neill stretched his arms and groaned as he and his team descended down the ramp from the still-active Stargate into the depths of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. "That...was extraordinarily boring."

"Jack, there _were_ some interesting tablets inscribed in an unfamiliar language in those ruins, I'm not sure what it is yet, and that in itself is worth studying," Daniel said thoughtfully as they began their slow journey through the base.

Jack rolled his eyes. "As I said, boring."

Teal'c said nothing, but it was a loud nothing.

Daniel shot a smirk at Sam. "Alright then, see you at the debriefing."

#

"Colonel O'Neill, welcome back. How was P3X-742?" General Hammond asked.

"There were some interesting trees and Daniel found some nifty new rocks," Jack replied with a sour face.

When the General turned his expectant gaze towards Daniel, the archaeologist glared at his team leader. "There didn't appear to be any recent activity of any kind and those interesting 'rocks' I found were tablets that contained an unfamiliar language. It shares some characteristics of Sumerian but..." Daniel shrugged, "I'll continue looking it over. Given the nature of the ruins, I don't believe it will yield much in the way of 'practical knowledge'."

General Hammond nodded. "Anything else to report? Major Carter? Teal'c?"

Sam shook her head. "No sir."

Teal'c's face remained placid as he spoke, "no, General Hammond."

Jack moved to get up, "Well, if that's it—"

"Hold it Colonel, there were some developments here on Earth that I wanted to discuss."

"Oh?" Jack inquired as he settled back into his chair.

"While you were gone, a city in California disappeared into a giant sinkhole. Oddly enough, there doesn't appear to have been as many casualties as one might expect. Despite the total lack of forewarning or official evacuation notice, the residents apparently had been leaving the city in the preceding weeks. None of them could answer why they had done so. Even odder is the fact there appears to be no sound reason for the city to have collapsed; there was no seismic activity, there were no reports of any sort of attack, and the tunnel system underneath the city that is being blamed for the collapse doesn't even exist. Sunnydale, California was buried for no discernible reason."

"That's...odd and terrible for the people who've lost their homes, but why is this relevant to us?" Sam asked, wincing at how callous her statement sounded.

A brilliant white light flashed through the room, making everyone present blink or avert their eyes. When they were able to see clearly again, there was a small grey being with large black eyes seated on a thronelike chair.

"That's why," the general said in a less than happy tone.

"Thor, buddy, how you been?" Jack asked cheerfully.

"I am doing well, O'Neill," the grey-skinned Asgard said, blinking his large black eyes.

"You wanted to bring Sunnydale to our attention?" Sam ventured.

The Asgard blinked again. "Yes, Samantha Carter. The location of Sunnydale is important, and its collapse is alarming."

"Why is it significant to the Asgard?" Teal'c asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It is of significant importance to _everyone_ , Teal'c. There was a portal located directly beneath the city of Sunnydale," Thor replied.

"A _third_ Stargate?" Jack asked incredulously, "And you only thought to tell us _now_?"

"There was no Stargate, O'Neill, it was a portal. I never spoke of it because it was..." There was a pause that usually indicated Thor was searching for the right words. "...not under your jurisdiction."

There was a moment of silence where the tension was nearly tangible.

"Thor, buddy, where did this portal lead to, and whose jurisdiction did it fall under?" Jack asked, trying to focus on the reasons why he liked Thor and the Asgard.

"It was a portal to a different dimension, O'Neill. A dimension that, if opened, could cause great chaos even beyond your world. The portal was under the guardianship of the Slayer."

General Hammond could hear the capital S in Slayer and felt a migraine coming on. "What or who is this Slayer?"

Thor cocked his head and looked at each of the other individuals present. Another slow blink. "I had believed you were aware of the Slayer; there are several government bodies that have files on them. The collapse of Sunnydale is alarming, but other developments that have occurred since then are just as significant. At any given time, there should be only one Slayer on the planet. At almost the exact time of the collapse of Sunnydale, we were made aware of a massive energy fluctuation and the sudden presence of hundreds of Slayers."

"You monitor this...Slayer?" Daniel asked, clearly as confused as the others.

"For as long as we have been aware of this world, we have done so," Thor confirmed, then paused, "It would be more accurate, however, to state that the Nox are the ones that inform us of sudden significant changes."

"Thor, what is so important about the Slayer?" Sam asked, frowning in thought.

"The destruction of Sunnydale and the presence of so many Slayers, which should be an impossibility, is something that you should have been aware of. That you aren't aware of the Slayer at all is likely a result of the interference from multiple governments in addition to your Department of Defense. To my knowledge, at least one government organization has become aware of the Slayer," Thor replied.

"NID," Jack swore underneath his breath and General Hammond grimaced.

"So that you can understand their importance and their..." Thor paused and tilted his head again, "...jurisdiction, I will bring a Slayer here. I have already located one using records from the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation and from the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. I will bring her in now."

"Wait, what!?" Jack asked in alarm and getting to his feet. "Thor, don't—"

There was a bright flash.

There was a high pitched 'what the fuck!'

Jack caught a glimpse of brown hair and a fist aimed his way.

And then there was blackness.


	2. Making Friends

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Two**

 _ **Making Friends**_

#

 **June 12th, 2003**

Faith Lehane crouched on the bus watching Robin Wood's eyelids flutter. It was stupid, she barely knew the guy, they'd had one night together...but he'd wanted to surprise her, wanted to show her that not all men had to be playthings. She'd wanted it, she'd discovered. She'd wanted to be surprised and try...something with him, but she knew that dream was already dead as his body finally stilled on the bus seat. Reaching over, she gently closed his eyes and spent a moment mourning a man she hadn't had the chance to truly know. Brushing a sleeve across her burning eyes, she took a deep breath and went outside to join Buffy and the others looking over the sinkhole that had once been Sunnydale.

* * *

Faith groaned as the various aches and bruises made themselves known with a vengeance as she laid down on the bed after a night of patrol. She was still wearing the black leather jacket she had _appropriated_ from Cordelia as well as her, now thankfully clean, red tank top and blue jeans she had worn in Sunnydale. Faith had to admit that Cordelia had always had a superior sense of style than the Scoobies and the jacket practically seemed made for her. She was exhausted enough that she didn't feel like taking it off at the moment.

L.A. might not be the Hellmouth, but you could find vamps or demons anywhere and the cracked rib and painful bite on her shoulder was clear evidence of that fact. It had been several weeks since Sunnydale collapsed, since Robin died, and the First had been defeated and they were now temporarily located in L.A., though it was generally understood that Cleveland would be their final destination. They were currently camped out in Angel's digs, the Hyperion Hotel. She should have been happy that she was given her own room, but the fact that she had her own room was indicative of just how few survivors there were from the fight with the First.

Faith's wounds were mostly healed, but she felt drained from everything that had happened, both physically and emotionally. She hadn't expected to be totally welcome among the others, particularly the Sunnydale group, but she couldn't help feeling upset that there was so much lingering animosity. The newbies weren't bad, but they were more enamored of her than anything and their misguided hero worship grated on her. It was stupid, she knew, she deserved animosity and worse from the Scoobies and that knowledge had her mind tied up in knots. Angel had apparently worked out a deal with Wolfram & Hart that had given her a pardon so she didn't even have the 'luxury' of going back to jail. It was tempting, sad as it was, but jail had been stable for her, good for her even.

She sat back up, stood, and began pacing the length of the room. She didn't particularly want to have a powwow with the others at the moment, but she wasn't willing to leave them high and dry either. Not again. Everyone had lost somebody in the fight, and Faith had developed enough maturity to understand Xander's hostility and Buffy's distance and dark looks weren't necessarily because of her. Faith was determined that, animosity or not, she'd be there for Buffy, who had proved to be so much more capable than her in all things. "This is gonna suck," she muttered, even as her resolve settled.

And then there was a bright flash.

She looked around and found herself in completely different and unknown surroundings.

Faith staggered back a step, confused. Aside from the large table in the center of the room, she saw a disturbing grey muppet sitting in a chair and several military looking types gaping at her.

She cried out, "What the fuck?!"

Seeing the man closest to her already out of his seat, she backhanded him hard enough that he crashed into the wall on the opposite side of the room. She hopped onto the table and lunged towards the dark skinned man who was seriously giving her Slayer sense the wiggins. Grabbing a hold of his shirt, she used herself as leverage to flip the man over onto the ground. He was fast enough that he was able to recover quickly and she dodged several fast punches from him before she snapped a kick at his stomach, knocking him flat on his ass. Faith saw the other three individuals dressed in uniform training their pistols on her. Palming a knife from her boots, she threw it towards the bald white guy whose appearance practically screamed 'head honcho' and dove behind a chair that would be utterly useless as cover.

There was a quick flash and the sound of several gunshots. When nothing more happened, Faith peeked around the chair and saw the bullets and her knife hanging in midair, slowly impacting against an invisible barrier, with brief glowing flashes appearing at each impact of bullet and blade.

And then the muppet spoke.

"Slayer, I apologize for surprising you. We do not mean you any harm."

Seeing the look on the other people's faces, Faith wasn't quite willing to believe it. Remembering everything she'd heard about the Initiative, she suddenly felt a little more vulnerable than she'd ever like to admit. She slowly stood from her crouched position, still holding her second blade as she studied the room's other occupants. The black tank of a man had recovered and was giving her an odd look. When he caught her eye, he gave a brief respectful nod. The man Faith had backhanded was slowly getting to his feet with the help of the blonde woman. Faith winced as she realized that his nose was almost certainly broken. The man she believed to be in charge looked at the knife aimed at him hanging in midair and glared at her.

"Are you injured?" the grey being asked Faith.

The man holding the bleeding nose glared at the grey thing and then at Faith. "Is _she_ okay?!"

 _Ah, way to go Faith, how to meet new people and make friends,_ she thought witheringly. Unable to take any more silence, she finally asked the first thing that came to mind. "So...what's with the talking muppet?"

Faith saw the quick smile that flashed across the brown-haired man's face and felt some relief. A sense of humor was always a good sign and frankly, it was only the muppet and the black man, whom she now decided was to be referred to as 'Tank,' who was setting off her slayer senses. She kept Tank in sight at all times but maintained her vigil on grey Yoda as well.

"I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet."

"Uh huh," Faith drawled.

Sam knew that tone, it was the same tone that Jack's 'for cryin' out loud' was often delivered in. Seeing Daniel's mouth quirk, she guessed he had the same thought.

"So...military base...that's cool, I guess. Can I leave now?" Faith asked, feeling increasingly antsy.

"The members of Stargate Command were not aware of who or what you are, Faith Lehane. The destruction of Sunnydale and the portal was cause for great alarm among my people as was the sudden presence of so many Slayers. Your role in this world and that of those who work under General Hammond have many commonalities, and I felt it would be beneficial for you to be made aware of each other," 'Thor' said.

The tiny, naked, grey, black-eyed guy who lacked anything resembling a hammer wasn't doing much to ease her mind. That Thor didn't appear to want to eat her, lay eggs in her, rape or mutilate her, or really appear hostile in anyway was somewhat more comforting. The fact that these particular GI Joes and Janes didn't know about her meant that they weren't the Initiative. _All of which is, as they say, of the good_ , Faith mused.

Faith turned to the military personnel who were still glaring at her. "So...you guys kill any demons lately?"

Blank stares.

 _Commonalities my ass._ Faith turned and glared at Thor who actually flinched away from her. _At least he has good sense,_ she snarled inwardly.

"Excuse me, did you say demons?"

The brown-haired man who had asked the question wore blue fatigues, glasses. His appearance and demeanor nearly screamed 'Geek.' He was cute, possibly twice her age, but he was surprisingly well built, though not as well as Tank.

"Oh for cryin' out loud!" the man whose nose she had broken shouted out, before cringing and cupping his nose. He was tall, had silvering hair but could still pass as a good looking man. _A_ _genuine silver fox,_ she thought, delighted, _but that's always been Buffy's kink_. He, along with everyone else besides Geek, was wearing green fatigues. Faith wondered if this was significant before turning towards the blonde.

"Sir-" she began before Head Honcho raised his hand.

The blonde was hot, no doubt about it. Faith gauged her to be around Geek's age or so and had fairly short hair. Faith wasn't quite sure what to make of her until she saw the intelligence in those eyes. Geek was already taken, so Faith would stick with Blonde for now.

Thor decided it was time to grace the room with his knowledge once again. "Demon is the correct term, Daniel Jackson. That is what they are often referred to as by the Tau'ri. However what a demon is has been distorted by your languages and by time, but Faith Lehane is correct in how she applies the term."

Faith was amused to see that Blondie looked like she was about to explode, Silver Fox was still glaring at her, Tank was looking at her impassively, and Geek looked like he was assembling a long list of questions to barrage her with later. Head Honcho looked annoyed, which Faith could sympathize with, and he finally asked what Faith had been wanting to know the whole time. "Thor...why did you bring her here? Why is it important that we know her?"

Thor considered the question and blinked large black eyes at Faith. "I was asked by the Nox to discover what had happened. Why the portal underneath Sunnydale is now closed and why there are now many Slayers. I wanted to discover if it would be feasible to utilize Faith Lehane's skills with your Stargate teams."

Head Honcho appeared to experience genuine pain at the notion of Thor's last statement and Faith chewed her lip in indecision. Thor seemed like a decent guy, but she still really had no idea what to make of any of this. _And what are the Nox?_ Faith guessed that the whole supernatural world had probably learned what had happened by now; they were terrible gossips. She'd stick with what could be learned from any demon bar.

Avoiding the military officers' eyes who were boring a hole through her with their stares, she spoke directly to Thor. She tried to watch his reactions, and trying desperately to avoid looking at his distinct lack of genitalia. Given that his reactions mostly consisted of tilting his head and blinking those freaky big, black eyes, Faith figured that she wouldn't learn jack shit from observing him.

"So...well...I was in the big house, uh prison I mean, when this first started; I didn't really get involved until the end." When Blondie frowned at her and opened her mouth, Faith lifted a hand. "We can talk about my time in the slammer later." At Hammond's nod, she continued.

"A while ago one of the seals to the Hellmouth in Sunnydale was unlocked. The First began working towards escaping and...well..you know general mayhem. When the Watchers' Council was blown up in Tweedland, the potential Slayers were brought to Sunnydale. A witch that worked with us decided to prepare a spell that would activate every potential Slayer. Then one of our people used an artifact that collapsed the Hellmouth and we skedaddled, uh ran.."

Thor remained silent for a while and continued looking at her and blinking. "Fascinating," he finally said.

Silver Fox rolled his eyes and Blondie kept looking between Thor and Faith looking utterly flabbergasted, almost pained in her desire for clarification. Tank still looked stoic and Head Honcho looked like he wanted to leave and never come back.

It was Geek who broke the silence, though it took him several tries to get a word out. "Excuse me, Faith, you said 'The First' and mentioned the 'Hellmouth,' a 'witch.' and a 'spell'?"

Faith couldn't help chuckling. She decided that she was bored standing up and cautiously found a chair to sit in. Or, more correctly, lounge in as she put her feet up on the table. She couldn't help it, other than Silver Fox, they all looked like they had a major stick wedged up their ass. While she might be on the road to redemption, tweaking the nose of the military couldn't be too awful, maybe it might actually help. Seeing the death glare Head Honcho gave her, she knew the decision had been the right one.

"Ah yeah...look, this is awkward so...magic exists." Faith appended the statement with jazz hands and a shrug..

Blondie finally managed to get something out, "Magic isn't real. Look, especially with the Asgard, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, it's impos-"

"Is that from the Simpsons?" Faith interrupted, frowning. Geek and Blondie looked like they were ready to end her then and there, but Silver Fox was actually beaming at her. Well she thought he was beaming anyway; it was hard to tell with the blood. "Anyway, it's kinda useless to argue about it. Ah...General Head Honcho, you should ask around for a group called the Initiative. They set up a uber-secret military base in Sunnydale. They know about this stuff. Or ask for..." Faith winced, "...for a Riley Finn, I dunno what branch he's in, but he might help you understand some things."

For the first time, Tank finally spoke. He had a deep rumbling voice that accompanied his bulk perfectly. "What is a Slayer, Faith Lehane?"

Faith crossed her arms and shuffled her feet, giving Head Honcho a different angle of her feet on his table for his appreciation. "How 'bout you tell me what a Stargate is and I might just tell you what a Slayer is."

She grinned when every face in the room went blank. Or in Tank's case, remained blank. "Alright, my man Thor. Could you tell me what a Stargate is?"

Head Honcho looked extremely nervous all of a sudden, so did the other military people. Geek spoke up in a somewhat panicked tone, "Ah, Thor-"

Thor on the other hand, to Faith's satisfaction, was apparently her new besty. "I believe it would be beneficial for Faith Lehane to understand what you do here, Daniel Jackson. I believe it is possible that your two groups could help each other in many ways."

The military people obviously had no idea what a Slayer was or could do, despite the ass kicking Silver Fox and Tank had received. Their looks of disbelief didn't hurt her feelings but Faith was smart enough to get how the military could help the new Slayers. Funding, if nothing else, first aid, logistics support...you don't need a helicopter or special ops teams to help Slayers. From what she'd been told, the Initiative had figured _that_ lesson out the hard way.

Her new besty spoke again, much to everyone else's discomfort and Faith's satisfaction. "The Stargates are a network of devices planted across multiple galaxies which allow for instantaneous travel across vast interstellar distances."

Faith's mouth dropped and she just stared at Thor. "No shit?"

Thor cocked his head, "I don't understand how fecal matter is relevant to the subject. This is a Tau'ri colloquialism to request confirmation?" At Faith's tentative nod, Thor nodded his head. "No shit."

Silver Fox grinned at his response and Faith saw the others smiling too. Yeah, Thor seemed like he was a cool dude.

"So...outer space and stuff?" Faith asked, suddenly excited.

"Yes, Miss Lehane, outer space and stuff," Silver Fox replied in a somewhat nasally tone. Faith cringed, _breaking noses is definitely_ _not a good way to make friends, Faith, way to go._

"Cool," Faith said, "So I guess that makes Thor an alien. And Tank over there, too? Well...it's an improvement over demons."

"Why do you believe Murray is an alien?" Geek asked, nodding his head to indicate Tank. "You seem awfully comfortable with that knowledge."

"'Murray', and bullshit that's his name, gives me the wiggens. Besides, I did say it was an improvement over _demons_ , yes? Besides, I like my new besty," Faith said, shooting a wink at Thor.

It was Blondie this time who smiled, involuntarily it seemed.

"So...you guys don't plan on keeping me here...or torturing me...experimenting on me?" Faith asked. Given their expressions, she had their answer. "Yeah, look up the Initiative, it was oodles of fun."

Faith finally moved her feet off the table and she could literally see the vein in Head Honcho's forehead fade slightly. Aforementioned bald man then turned to Thor. "Thor, is there anything else you needed?"

"No, General Hammond, although I do look forward to hearing about your experiences with Faith Lehane." Another bright light and the Asgard was gone.

Faith stiffened. "Uh...so who's going to be my ride?"

Head Honcho gave her a stern look, "We'll have someone take you home, Miss Lehane, it appears that there are higher powers at work here." The General missed Faith's body twitch and her unhappy expression at his words and continued, "We'll talk, Miss Lehane, that's all. That Thor believes you can be trusted goes great lengths towards giving you credibility, and if things go well we'll have you out of here within 24 hours. It is standard protocol to give anyone leaving the base an exam to make sure there are no foreign organisms or diseases that might get loose."

At her alarmed looked, his smile was slightly less frosty. "No experimenting, Miss Lehane, and nothing invasive."

Faith breathed out in relief. _Well,_ she thought _, this will be interesting. I hope Willow doesn't freak out when I turn up missing._ A darker thought occurred to her and Faith had to fight to keep the worry off her face, _and hopefully they won't think I bailed on them again._

"Can I get my phone call? If my friends decide to come get me, I guarantee you that it won't be pretty for anyone."

General Hammond raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Yes, Miss Lehane, but be aware that the call will be monitored and it's imperative that you do not mention Thor's presence or the existence of the Stargate. Do you understand?"

"I gotcha, General Head-"

"General Hammond, Miss Lehane, my name is General Hammond." Hammond began pointing towards the other members of the team. "The man whose nose you appear to have broken is Colonel Jack O'Neill, beside him is Major Samantha Carter and Dr. Daniel Jackson. And this," Hammond pointed towards Tank, "Is Teal'c."

"Call me Faith," she said, giving her best smile. "So show me those phones and we can do the Q and A after?"

Seeing Jack still holding tissues against his nose, Hammond spoke in his stead. "Major Carter, Teal'c, please escort our guest there."

Major Carter and Tank- _no Teal'c,_ she reminded herself, stood and walked with her, Sam in front to guide her and Teal'c behind her, ostensibly to prevent her from wandering off or causing mischief.

#

George Hammond massaged his temples, trying to figure exactly how he was supposed to navigate this mess and what he done to deserve it. Finally he sighed and picked up the phone and dialed a number he had long ago memorized.

"General Hammond, how may I help you?"

"Major Davis, I need to know everything you know or have ever heard about something called the Initiative, the DRI, the Slayers, and the Hellmouth."

There was a long and tense silence.

"General, may I ask what happened to prompt you to ask for that information?"

"Thor decided to present us with Faith Lehane, a person he called 'Slayer', in the hopes that we might somehow work together."

George heard swearing on the other side of the line and was satisfied to know that it wasn't only he who was now feeling extremely irritated.

"I'll be there in the morning with the material, General."

"Good, see you then, Major."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I'm pretty sure the Asgard had no such shield capable of slowing bullets and blades until they were holding still in mid-air. Especially not one they could place at the drop of the hat. Just go with it.

I like reviews, please tell me what I'm doing wrong so I can make the story better!


	3. The Phone Call

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Three**

 _ **The Phone Call**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Since this is a fairly short chapter, I'll try to push out another within the next day or so. Also keep in mind this chapter takes place well within an hour of Faith's 'abduction.' I'm also ignoring Conner banging Cordelia/Evil Cordelia/Jasmine, at least for now. *shrug* Sorry if my murdering of timelines makes the read less enjoyable. I'm trying my best.

 **Treva Rea:** I have a more in depth explanation appearing later, but suffice it to say that his death is a plot device, rather than a continuity error. Basically, I'm allowing the potential for a relationship to grow later.

* * *

#

"Angel, have you seen Faith?" Buffy asked in a worried tone. "Wes? Any of you?"

Wesley frowned, "I'm sorry Buffy, but I haven't seen her since she came back from patrolling nearly three hours ago. She's not in her room?"

Buffy shook her head, "No, there's no sign of her and her stake was laying on the floor."

"Meaning what?" Cordelia asked, confused. "She probably left to troll the bars or get her freak on or whatever."

"Faith wouldn't have left without her stake, even if she has other weapons on her," Angel answered.

"Is it possible she did a runner?" Xander asked hesitantly. "I mean, she may not be all psycho-slayer but...I know Robin's death hit her hard. She might just have wanted some space."

Buffy looked at Angel to gauge his thoughts as it was he who had probably seen deepest into Faith's psyche.

"No," Angel said. "She was determined to remain with you, to earn your respect or forgiveness."

There was a ringing sound from Angel's bedroom and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket looking confused. A look of realization crossed his face and he ran inhumanly fast towards his room. Buffy was right on his heels and watched him pull out a simple looking cell phone that had been laying on a nearby table.

"Yes?" he asked in his usual soft voice.

Buffy's shoulders relaxed when she heard Faith's voice coming from the phone and strained to hear what Faith was telling Angel.

* * *

"Yes?"

Faith felt something inside her unclench when she heard Angel's voice and only realized then exactly how tense she had been. "Hey big guy. Uh...just so you know, there are some other folks probably listenin' in." Though Sam and Teal'c had given her some privacy, she had no doubt that Hammond had been truthful about her conversation being monitored. "You might wanna get Red and B, probably should talk to them, too."

There was a pause before Angel replied, "Alright Faith, give me a second."

There was silence before a loud burst of static made Faith jerk the phone from her ear, but the static disappeared almost immediately.

"Faith, you alright?"

Faith felt sure that Buffy's worried voice had produced a goofy looking smile that should have had no place on her face. "Yeah B, five by five. So...I'm currently in the keeping of the United States Air Force. How 'bout that?"

There was a much longer silence this time, a strained silence laced with dark memories. Willow finally said, "Do you need us to hurt some people to get you out?" Even knowing about Dark Willow, Faith almost laughed at the question asked in Willow's usual nervous and upbeat voice.

"Uh, not yet. The Air Force guys didn't actually kidnap me. An interested third party thought it would be good for them to meet a Slayer. PTB might be involved here."

A loud collective groan answered her statement.

"Well, if we don't hear from you soon, like really soon, we're busting you out," Willow said. Faith guessed that her 'Resolve' face was on display. "Will you ask someone if there are still giraffes in the zoo on the mountain?"

Faith's face scrunched in confusion. "Uh, sure Red. Give the phone back to Fang, alright?"

"Faith?"

"Alright big guy, take care of yourself and the others. I'll call you guys when I have the chance. I think..." she trailed off, watching several men wearing combat fatigues laughing with one another as they walked down the corridor, "...I think this might be something good."

"Okay Faith, make sure you call, frequently, or I'll come and get you myself."

Even knowing that nobody was watching her, Faith had to hide her face. She didn't deserve Angel or the others but she still somehow had them. "Alright big guy, take care."

She hung the phone onto the receiver and wiped an eye with a sleeve and finally left the small room. "Alright Major Carter...Teal'c, where to?"

* * *

Angel closed the phone with a soft click and exchanged concerned glances with the others.

"Willow?"

The red haired witch, currently arm-in-arm with Kennedy, smiled tentatively. "I think we're fine. I've never tested that spell and I don't know how it would apply to a phone, but I don't think any kind of trace could be done. But I'm not sure."

"I trust you," Angel said simply.

"Is she in trouble?" Wesley asked softly. Despite their tumultuous past, Wesley had managed to understand and forgive Faith and was more than willing to help the dark haired Slayer who had once tortured him. He had grown up in the last few years and could recognize there had been mistakes on both sides and he hadn't forgotten her willingness to sacrifice herself to save Angel just a few weeks ago.

Buffy frowned and began to pace.

"She told us immediately that the phone call was being monitored. It's significant that she was already aware of that, and that they allowed her to call us at all," Wesley said.

"She didn't use any names, only her own nicknames for us," Xander pointed out.

"Faith isn't certain of their intentions, but is willing to go along with it for now," Buffy stated slowly.

"But who was the third party that took Faith, and how were they able to do it so suddenly and without tripping any of our wards or without any of us realizing?" Wesley asked.

"From what my locater spell revealed, I think that Faith is currently in Colorado Springs, near Cheyenne Mountain. There is a large Air Force presence there what with NORAD and the Air Force Academy. But I don't understand how she was taken and brought there so quickly, without any of us realizing it!" Willow exclaimed, frustrated.

"Oh!" Dawn exclaimed loudly. "The giraffes, and the zoo, I forgot about the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo...their tongues are weird." Dawn blushed when everyone stared at her.

"Anyways," Buffy said, smiling at Dawn, "Willow, try and figure out what's there. Angel, you should see if Lorne or any demons might know anything about it. In the meantime, we'll just have to take it step by step and make sure Faith stays five by five."


	4. Story Time

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Four**

 _ **Story Time**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I am still deliberating on whether to make this a short prequel to a series or whether to make this a single standalone. Trying to write Faith into joining SGC in any sort of realistic manner would be tedious and the idea of just making a montage is appealing. And I still haven't decided if that's actually how I want to move this story forward. So, folks, should I make this into a prequel for a series/standalone where Faith joins SGC? or should I make this just a simple meet and greet?

I have a much more length A/N coming up in Chapter 5 where I'm going to try to lay out a few things and explain my plans/reasoning.

 **PanchoPistolas:** I do apologize for the short chapters but I am going to do my best to keep the story flowing. If I release short chapters, I'll try to release the next chapter sooner. My next few chapters are already shaping up to be longer.

* * *

#

"So...where we goin'?" Faith drawled, following Sam down one of the many similar looking grey corridors.

"If Colonel O'Neill's only injury is his broken nose, then he should already be out of the infirmary and at the cafeteria right now, which is where we're headed. I thought you might like something to eat," Sam replied dryly.

Faith winced. "Yeah...sorry about that, got a little jumpy at the whole being hijacked bit."

It was Sam's turn to grimace. "Jack will probably be a little miffed for a while, but we understand." Sam sighed and shrugged, "Thor means well."

"Right," the brunette drawled dubiously while Teal'c remained ever impassive as he followed the two women.

Eventually they found themselves in the cafeteria, where Faith saw the Geek, who she now knew to be Dr. Daniel Jackson, and one Colonel Jack O'Neill sporting bandaging around his nose and an icepack against his swollen cheek.

Girding her metaphorical loins, she joined the four at a small table and looked up to see the Colonel staring at her, or not so much a stare as a glare. Faith averted her eyes and looked around and saw jello on the table. Lots of jello.

Faith inwardly shrugged and thought, _still beats prison food_ , before she grabbed one of the dishes.

"Additional proof that she isn't all bad, sir," the blonde woman beside her observed.

Faith frowned and Daniel nodded towards Faith's blue jello and elaborated on Sam's innocuous statement. "Sam believes the blue jello is the best."

"I see," the young woman said, obviously not seeing it at all.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Faith finally gave up. "Okay, Doctor J, ask."

"What's a Slayer?" came the immediate question.

"You promised me a Stargate," Faith countered with a raised eyebrow.

"After you finish your jello, we'll take you straight there," Daniel promised.

"We will?" Jack asked in a somewhat nasal tone and shot a pointed look towards the younger man.

"We _will,_ " Daniel insisted.

Faith shrugged. One of the things she'd managed in her time in prison was learn how not to be such a stubborn bitch all the goddamn time. _Might as well put all that practice to use_ , she thought, _someone's gonna have to spill their guts first anyway and seeing how it's their party I crashed..._ "A Slayer...is a young girl mystically chosen to fight evil," Faith said. "That's the cliff notes answer, you'll need to ask someone in tweed for a better one."

"Tweed?" Sam asked.

"You know, the Brits. Stuffy and posh with sticks jammed up their collective asses?"

Faith's comment made Daniel choke on the water he was sipping and decided to elaborate. "See, there used to be this group of stuffy British men called the Watchers' Council, who helped guide the Slayers through their duties and train those who had the potential to become Slayers. They tell us how to kill somethin', and we go kill it."

Her eating companions stared at her.

"If there was supposed to be only one Slayer, why did they spend so much effort on training potential replacements?" Sam asked.

That question made Faith grimace. "Look, Slayers...Slayers are Called from young girls, younger than 18, I think. Slayers get sent out to kill baddies, to face Evil. Evil with a capital 'E', ya know? Evil doesn't play nice. Slayers have a short lifespan, Sam, rarely more than a year or two. The Watchers, complete bastards that they were, tried their best."

"You said mystically chosen, what do you mean?" Daniel asked.

"From what I've heard, way back thousands of years ago, I guess, some old guys forced a demon into a girl. She was the first Slayer, a hunter of the things that would hunt man. When the girl died, another would be Called, gaining that same power and continuing the fight against baddies. It wasn't random, how a girl came to be Called, but it wasn't totally predictable or somethin' that could be manipulated either."

"What "evil" would require such methods," Teal'c asked.

"Vampires mostly, Demons and all the other things that go bump in the night, too."

Sam just stared at her at the mention of vampires but otherwise said nothing.

"But if a demon's essence is part of you...why aren't you-?" Daniel blushed as he asked the question.

Faith grinned, "Evil? Well...demons ain't all evil, not really. Some just want to live peacefully, or find ways to live with humans. Some come from other dimensions like refugees. Pretty weird shit." Faith's grin faded then, "Besides, I wasn't always a beacon of virtue or whatever. I had a pretty nasty evil streak until I turned myself in. People are people, and I've seen people do shit just as evil as any demon."

For the first time, Colonel O'Neill spoke. "What happened?"

Faith shrugged and avoided the eyes of her companions. None of these people knew her, hadn't understood what she had done and what she had become. Even given the disaster of their first meeting, she still hadn't become diminished in their eyes, she could tell. But she figured General Hammond would dig some of it out soon anyways; better from her than from a rap sheet.

"A lot of bad luck, some shitty circumstances, and stupid fuckin' decisions on my part. It wasn't only my fault, there was some pretty messed up shit happenin', but there was a point where if I had owned up to my own failings, a lot of the stuff that happened later might never have happened at all." Faith took a deep breath. "I killed a man. It was an accident, it was understandable, but I panicked. And things just spiraled down from there. I did some pretty terrible things. Tortured somebody, practically raped someone else, killed another man, and joined up with someone that really was Evil with a capital 'E'. I was so stupid and I just didn't get it. I ended up in a coma for almost a year after being ganked and when I woke up I did some more stupid shit before I tried to make someone else kill me because I was too cowardly to do it myself...and I decided to turn myself in."

Faith drank a sip of water still avoiding the others' eyes. "I turned myself in because I didn't want to be evil with a capital 'E.' I wanted to fix myself, and being in lockup helped me do that. I was supposed to be doing 25 to life."

The Colonel spoke again, his voice quiet, "How did you get out?"

Faith snorted. "I broke out. Could have done it at any time. A friend needed me, the same friend who helped me make the decision to turn myself in. Everyone gave up on me but him, so when I heard he was in trouble, I didn't think twice. When he was safe, I learned some even worse shit was going down, I couldn't let the others deal with it alone. Those people I wanted to help, they were the ones I'd hurt so badly before. After Sunnydale went down the drain, I found out that same friend of mine had managed to get me pardoned."

"A pardon? After you escaped?" Sam asked incredulously.

"You ever heard of Wolfram & Hart?"

"Thor spoke of 'the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart'," recalled.

"Yeah...it's a transdimensional law firm owned by demons. They can pretty much fix anything for you for a price."

"Seriously?" The Colonel asked.

"Seriously," Faith nodded.

"Well," the Colonel said nonchalantly, "That was more dour than I expected. Aren't there any happy things you found like Santa or something?"

"Ah, I was actually told that Santa Claus was a demon who disemboweled children in ye olden days," Faith said, wincing at the mortified looks she received.

"So...you did some bad things, you turned yourself in and served time. You escaped to fight _against_ evil and now you're free. What do you want to do next?" Daniel asked curiously.

Faith sighed. "I dunno. I wanna be there for the others but...I kinda wanna know why Thor thinks I can help you."

"Your besty," Jack said blandly.

Faith smirked.

"From what both you and Thor have stated, you are a formidable warrior," Teal'c said. "I would like to spar with you."

Sam watched as a wide grin appeared on the young brunette's face and found herself uncertain whether she was willing to bet on Teal'c.

"You got it, T, let's see what you got," Faith said, cracking her knuckles and loosening her shoulders.

"Ah, why don't we do that in the morning," Daniel said. "It's pretty late."

"Party pooper," Faith teased before she turned more serious. "But you promised me a Stargate, so we see that first."

The others exchanged looks and Colonel O'Neill finally shrugged and said, "Sam, why don't you take Faith to take a look. Like Daniel, I am in need of my beauty sleep."

"Gonna take a whole lot sleep to make that mug beautiful," Faith murmured.

Jack shot her a dirty look while Sam coughed to cover a laugh.

Teal'c bowed his head to Faith, "I look forward to the morning, then. Good night, Faith Lehane."

"Gotcha, Later T." Faith watched the other three get up and make their way out of the room before turning to Sam. "Alright Blondie, show me this gate of yours."

As they walked out of the cafeteria, Sam couldn't help but to finally blurt out, "Vampires?!"

Faith's answering laugh echoed in the corridor.


	5. Show Me Yours

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Five**

 _ **Show Me Yours...**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Even though we're already five chapters in, I thought now would be the best time to explain a few things:

 **(1)** I remember watching the BtVS episode when Faith first returns to Sunnydale to help Buffy fight against the First. When she first came back and got into a fight with Spike, not knowing him to have been ensouled, and then soon after some random blonde vampire, it took her a long ass time to kill the she vamp. I mean this is years after she was called and she probably got punched in the face as many times as she hit the vamp. It bothered me that her abilities as a Slayer seemed to have been really downplayed. Now I know Buffy and Faith shouldn't have been able to dust vamps all willy nilly but they were powerful and experienced enough that it shouldn't have taken so long or have been tossed around as much as they were. There was another scene in Chosen where Faith was tackled by a group of ubervamps and she seemed to have less trouble fighting them off than she did dusting the aforementioned blonde vamp, I'm going to do my best to ensure that Slayer abilities aren't uber-powerful, but Faith's a mystical warrior, not some chick who took a self-defense course at the local YMCA.

 **(2)** Faith never had the same consistent education about the supernatural that Buffy had. While she had some time with the Scoobies and her own Watcher in Boston, her life wasn't stable enough to have been given the steady knowledge intake that Buffy received. It's likely that I'm taking liberties with her understanding of the world. I'm also doing my best to make her normal attitude genuine while also not being _quite_ so ditsy, and as you can see, probably more introspective than she would have otherwise been, too.

 **(3)** I was unable to find much information about SG-1's hand-to-hand capabilities. Teal'c was likely the most skilled in both the martial arts as well as with personnel weapons like blades/staffs. Both Jack and Sam _were_ capable, but I found no information to suggest they possessed anything beyond the standard military combat techniques. And Daniel...well, not so much. While Buffy was trained in several different styles of martial arts (with an emphasis on Oriental styles), Faith was more of a brawler: boxing/kickboxing, some grappling, and whatever else she's accumulated over the years.

 **(4)** So, I am aware that in "Chosen," Robin _doesn't_ die. When Faith tries to close his eyes, believing him dead, he suddenly coughs and is actually still alive. My story simply removed that particular twist. In the event of his death, I hypothesized that Faith _was_ greatly hurt, but I don't think that it would have truly broken her heart. In the show, it's obvious she was upset when she tried to close his eyes, but she didn't seem utterly devastated. I always thought her attitude closer to regretful than anything else, and if Robin _had_ died, I like to think she still would have accepted the possibility of "being surprised." As you might also guess, I'm still trying to keep her a very sensual individual but without going all "Slut-o-rama." I haven't made any decisions in the story regarding relationships, but Robin's death obviously allows the possibility and it is something that I **_may_** attempt to explore. **_If_** I do, it's likely that the story will be bumped to an 'M' rating.

Let me know what you think.

* * *

#

Faith stood quietly in a room that overlooked the 'Gateroom', as Sam called it. There wasn't much noise or bustle, though there were people evidently monitoring the thing, but Faith figured they were running a skeleton crew in the wee hours. Faith just looked at the object. Didn't look all that fancy, a ramp leading to this big circle. "So...when you press the 'on' button, you just walk in through there and pop out somewhere else a bazillion light-years away?"

Sam nodded, "Pretty much. Wormholes."

"Wicked." Faith fell silent, contemplating the device called the Stargate and the implications of its existance, before she asked, "How did this all start?"

"The Stargate was recovered in 1928, in Egypt, and was taken here. It wasn't until about seven or eight years ago that we were actually able to use it. You see all those symbols along the ring?" At Faith's nod, Sam continued, "They are Egyptian hieroglyphs, but we didn't understand what they meant or how to use them for quite a long time, but we eventually figured out they were constellations. Constellations which could be used to form interstellar coordinates. It was Daniel Jackson who eventually figured the rest of the puzzle out and allowed us to utilize the Stargate successfully for the first time. We can't explain all of the physics involved that allows the device to function, but with an enormous amount of power, you can use the symbols like you might dial a phone number. Choose the correct sequence and our Stargate will connect to another, forming a wormhole."

"Wicked," Faith repeated, shaking her head. "So how did one of these things pop up here?"

"A much older race known as the 'Ancients' used to live in this galaxy," Sam answered, "From what we know they are the ones that actually first constructed the Gate system. We only found out recently that humanity is descended from the Ancients."

"The world is older than you know..." Faith murmured quietly. "So you guys deal with this stuff...are vampires and magic really so crazy?"

Sam considered the question and nodded. "Having Thor on your side gives you a great deal of credit, but I am, at heart, still a scientist. There are too many times where I've seen something that could be described as 'magic' that was really just some advanced device of some sort. I'll try to keep my mind open, but..."

"I hear you," Faith said, "At least you're trying. Most people don't want to know, they bury their heads in the sand so that they can pretend their world is just as shallow as it seems. You should look up how many people died in Sunnydale before it went kaboom, and look at the reasons for all those deaths. Vampire attacks were usually called freak barbecue fork accidents." At Sam's look, Faith laughed and nodded, "Seriously."

"Alright, I'll show you to your room for the night now unless there's anything else you need?"

"Nah, I think I'm ready to hit the hay," Faith answered, yawning.

"Okay, Slayer, just come with me then."

"Sure thing, Blondie."

* * *

Faith gave Sam a 'good night' and a wink and was rewarded with a faint blush on the blonde's face. _Still got it,_ she thought, satisfied. Turning, she found about what she expected. Bed, desk, chair, and a small pile of folded clothes on the neatly made bed. She had already been shown communal bathrooms and a place she could shower and had been advised by Sam that an airman would be posted outside of her door in case she needed anything. It was an also not so subtle "Don't do anything stupid" hint for Faith.

 _Stargates, Aliens, and military people, oh my!_ She thought with a touch of bemusement.

And then she froze. A feeling of horror and bleakness descended upon her. A feeling of dread and a premonition of a dark and terrible thing filled her mind. "Andrew must never know. Never," she whispered out loud. Faith shuddered at the possibility of Andrew learning of the Stargate's existence.

Faith sighed and took off her jacket, shirt, and pants and slipped naked into the bed. Having not worn a bra or panties, she figured if anyone was watching her, they had just gotten an excellent view of her goodies. _Fuck it,_ she thought. She hadn't had much in the way of modesty when she arrived in Sunnydale the first time and the events following her arrival and her stay in prison had pretty much erased it all together. Faith liked going commando but there were times like this when she was reminded of the drawbacks.

She didn't immediately sleep. Even exhausted as she was by her earlier fighting in L.A. and her sudden arrival here, she couldn't sleep immediately. It had been like this for years, pictures flashing through her mind. Xander's face as she choked him, Willow's as she held a knife to her throat, the sensation of being stabbed and the look on Buffy's face, Angel refusing to kill her even as she begged him to, her watcher being brutally murdered by Kakistos, her good for nothing father who liked to hit little girls and a mother who didn't care about anything but the bottle and her next fix, and of course the images of monsters she'd faced and the gruesome bodies they'd left in their wake. This happened every night, a litany of all the badness in her life and she still wasn't sure if it was punishment or reasons for her to change.

Faith had told her companions over jello about her past. Some of it anyways, the worst of what she'd done. She had sensed the tension and stiffening of their bodies but Faith hadn't let that stop her. By the end of it, she still didn't know what they thought of her but Colonel O'Neill, the man she had immediately assaulted upon her arrival and whose nose she'd broken, didn't seem to look at her and see a monster. She wasn't sure what he did see, but that was good enough for now.

Faith's eyes remained closed hoping that the litany of faces and memories would end and that she might get some sleep. The last thing she remembered was Robin's death and his hope that she might learn that people could surprise her.

* * *

 **June 13th, 2003**

Faith groaned as she woke to a very annoying and very loud rapping on her door. She used her elbows to lean up slightly on the bed, still somewhat bleary eyed and called out, "Yes?"

The door opened hesitantly to reveal Daniel Jackson, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and green military-style pants. "Faith, we were somewhat worried, its been twelve hours and we were wondering if-AH!"

Faith started at Daniel's exclamation and focused on the man whose face was now a deep red. Daniel turned his head away sharply and began stammering. Looking down, Faith realized that the bed sheet had fallen down to her stomach, exposing her naked breasts. "Fuck," she swore. "Just a minute."

The door almost slammed in Daniel's retreat and Faith couldn't help but snicker a little at the archaeologist's mortification. Though she might not have a whole lot of modesty left, flashing the twins at the people in the uber-secret military base probably wouldn't do her much good. She put on the very drab one size fits all boxers and grey sweatpants they had given her and then put on the plain white t-shirt. The asskicker boots she had worn yesterday clashed, but she was willing to sacrifice fashion for the steel toed boots. Apparently they had taken Thor at his word that she might be an ally because, to her utter astonishment, they had allowed her to keep them along with the knives she had in them. To her, that went a long way towards giving them, both Thor and the military, the benefit of the doubt.

Finally, she opened the door and watched Daniel's eyes immediately go back to her chest, obviously relieved that it was no longer exposed. His face turned beet-red again when he noticed her smirking at him.

Deciding to give the man a break, Faith finally smoothed out her face and said, "Ah, sorry about that Doctor J. I was pretty worn out, I guess I needed the sleep. Where to?"

"Uh, yes. Doctor Fraiser wanted to go ahead and give you your exam now. Even if you are sparring with Teal'c later, she wanted to get some of the tests that take a little more time started now, if you want to come with me," and he began walking down yet another grey corridor.

Faith caught up to him and walked at his side and noticed he was determinedly looking anywhere but at her. Inwardly she smirked, but she did her best to put him at ease. "So...how did an archaeologist get roped into this? I mean, Sam told me the deal about Egypt and whatnot, so I'm guessing it has to do with that, but...?"

The question seemed to do the trick and Faith watched the man relax slightly and his mouth quirk. "It's kind of a funny story. I had been doing research on the pyramids and was convinced that...well...aliens were involved. I spent several years developing the theory and about seven years ago I presented my findings and evidence to the scientific community and..."

It didn't take much of a genius to figure that one out. "They booted you out?"

Daniel nodded, "Pretty much. Almost immediately after, I was found by a nice elderly lady who told me a story about something her father had found in Giza and wanted my help. And only a short time later, I found out that I was even more correct about the pyramids than I had ever imagined. And not too long after that, we used the Stargate for the first time."

"What was that like?"

"The usual. Got trapped on another planet, found enslaved humans on the other side, made new friends, made new enemies, nuked said enemies, got married, you know..."

Faith grinned. "Still married then?"

Daniel's smile vanished at the question and Faith immediately regretted asking the question. "No, one of our enemies...possessed her. She was killed several years ago."

"Possessed?"

Daniel looked at her then and his mouth twitched. "Probably not in the way you're thinking, this time. The Goa'uld are a symbiotic race of...well they kinda look like snakes. If they get in you they take control over you by wrapping themselves around your spinal cord. They make the host body stronger, give it perfect health, and retain the Goa'uld's intelligence and knowledge. They also have an unfortunate tendency to believe themselves to be gods, and thus enslave those they believe weaker while seeking to destroy any who oppose them."

"I'm guessing that includes us," Faith said flatly.

"Hence the aforementioned nuking. But we aren't alone. We have made allies, like Thor and the Asgard, we have gained new technology and we are obviously still here. But yes, we are effectively at war," Daniel said.

Faith nodded and thought hard. "I guess Thor might have thought that a sudden increase of mystical warriors might be good news for you."

"Yes, I suppose so," Daniel agreed then spoke somewhat hesitantly. "The Goa'uld more or less owned Earth until about 3000 BC, when humans revolted and drove them off." Daniel stopped speaking for a moment, looking at her intently. "I have seen several texts that describe that revolt and I seem to recall one or two passages which describe female warriors that fought against them. The wording didn't seem to describe them as anything but human, so I never found it worth further examination, but I always found it interesting that women who fought the Goa'uld were specifically mentioned. And now you're here. And I begin to wonder."

Faith had a sudden feeling that Daniel was on to something. A race of parasitic creatures possessing humans and enslaving them...that's practically flashing a 'Welcome' sign for a Slayer. "Demonic possession is a real thing here...I mean that's what vampires are, really. Something like these...Goa'uld?" Faith was unsure of her pronunciation and continued when Daniel nodded, "It's not too hard to see how Slayers might have confused alien with demon." Faith paused, still thinking, "I don't know much about our history, Slayers and Watchers that is, but I know a couple people who might be able shed some light on the topic. If things work out, maybe I'll give you their names and numbers, make a date out of it."

"Individuals from 'Tweedland' I supposed," Daniel commented blandly.

"That's right, Doctor J, you catch on quick." Faith's wink made the older man blush again. "But, Doctor J, I gotta tell you. My peeps are pretty private, as secretive as yours, I bet. We're already way wigged out about military types and we try not to uh... _expose_ ourselves too much."

 _Score!_ Faith thought triumphantly as Daniel blushed scarlet.

"You are taking far too much delight in my suffering, Faith Lehane," Daniel managed after a moment.

"Yeah, I'm pretty naughty like that." _Again with the blushing._

A smartly dressed man in a blue uniform obviously heard her and stumbled to a halt, staring at her with wide eyes as they passed him. Faith shot him a wink.

"Okay Faith, I'm giving you to Doctor Frasier now. I'm going to advise her to give you the extra big needles," Daniel said, pushing her into a room marked 'Infirmary.' "Doctor Frasier, your new patient is here! Good luck!" he called before he quickly retreated, his face still an appealing shade of red.

A woman wearing a doctor's outfit saw his retreating form and quirked an eyebrow at Faith who just shrugged. The doctor smiled, "You're trouble, aren't you."

"Oh, Doc, you have no idea," Faith said with a grin.

The doctor shook her head. "Faith, was it?"

Faith nodded.

"Alright then, Faith. I'm Doctor Janet Frasier and I understand that you were dropped here somewhat unexpectedly. I'll be the one giving you a quick physical and a few quick tests. We have to do this to make sure you're not bringing anything potentially dangerous into the outside world after you leave this place. We have to do it for everyone, you understand?" Doctor Fraiser ended her spiel by extending a hand to Faith.

Faith decided almost immediately that Janet Frasier was 'good people,' as some might say. Faith took the doctor's hand and shook it. "Alright Doc, give me your worst."

Doctor Frasier put a hand on the small of her back to guide her to a nearby room. "Oh, I like you," the woman said, smiling, "Even though you made me put up with Colonel O'Neill's whining about his nose."

Faith winced and allowed herself to be guided by the friendly doctor without complaint.

* * *

"Major Davis, thanks for coming," General Hammond said, accepting the other man's salute. He wasn't sure how to take the extremely thick stack of papers and folders that he removed from his briefcase and placed onto the table within his reach. "That is...considerably more data than I had anticipated," he finally remarked.

Major Davis' mouth quirked, "Frankly, General, given the nature of the information you requested, it would be worrisome if we had any less."

"Before we begin, Major, I'd like to know why we weren't given so much as a clue about this, about whatever we've found ourselves involved in."

The other man nodded, "In all honesty, sir, its mostly to prevent anyone from meddling. There was a rogue group that had been getting quiet funding from the DoD that was based in Sunnydale. Good intentions got a lot of soldiers killed and...we aren't really prepared to face that world. It was believed that the best policy would be for complete discretion from everyone, including the NID. There are already forces on this world who deal with such matters, and we learned the hard way that it was best to let them handle it."

Hammond nodded. He figured he'd understand that statement better in the near future after he learned exactly what had landed, almost literally, in his lap. "Let's start with Faith Lehane, our more immediate concern."

There was an odd look on the Major's face. "I actually passed her in the hallway on the way here, I believe she was trying to determine how much she could make Daniel blush."

At the General's raised eyebrow, Major Davis shook his head and declined to repeat Faith's confession of being a 'naughty girl.' He realized he was also blushing when he heard General Hammond chuckle.

"It must have been something," the General said with a raised eyebrow.

Davis just shook his head and cleared his throat. "Here's what we have on Miss Lehane's background," the Major said. "Faith Lehane was born in Boston on December 14, 1980. There were several complaints from neighbors about possible domestic violence and child abuse in her home, though nothing ever came of it. There were also indications that the father and mother were habitual drug and alcohol users. The father, one Pat Lehane, was convicted of murder and imprisoned when Miss Lehane was four years old. Eventually she was removed from their home and was moved between relatives for a while until she entered the foster care system. The social worker assigned to her case believed that Miss Lehane might have been sexually abused at some point after the father left the scene."

General Hammond grimaced.

"Diana Dormer," Major Davis continued, "was a Harvard professor who took a special interest in Faith as a teenager. We know that the two spent a great deal of time together though no one was able to explain Dormer's interest in the girl." Seeing Hammond's expression, Davis was quick to add, "There were no indications or suspicions that Dolmer might have been taking advantage of the girl, but no one knew what the interest might be either. We can assume now that it was because Faith was recognized by Dolmer as a potential Slayer and that Dolmer must have been affiliated with the Watchers' Council and had begun mentoring and training the girl."

"A moment, Major. Before you continue, can you describe exactly what a Slayer and what the Watchers' Council is, just a quick rundown before you continue."

"Of course, General. A Slayer is a..." There was an obvious hesitation and a somewhat pained expression on Davis' face before he continued, "...mystical warrior, always a young woman and chosen by an unknown source and with unknown criteria, to fight...evil. We know that potential Slayers were often located by the Council, though we don't know how, and that the Watchers' duty was to essentially train, guide, and provide the Slayers with the support and knowledge they needed. Despite the number of women being trained by the Watchers', there is, at any time, only one Slayer."

There was obviously a great deal left unsaid, but Hammond could learn the specifics later. That Thor was aware of this...Slayer and that Major Davis was as well was enough for him to take it at face value for now. "Miss Lehane," Hammond prompted.

"In 1998, Diana Dolmer was found brutally murdered in her own home. There were no signs that Miss Lehane was responsible but she was believed to have been present at the time of the murder. We are fairly certain now that it was vampires who were responsible for Dolmer's death. We know that Faith left Boston and eventually arrived in Sunnydale, we know that she had been Called as a Slayer by that time. We know that her predecessor, or one of her predecessors, was one Buffy Summers, also of Sunnydale. Miss Summers is still alive and we're unsure of how Faith was Called while Miss Summers remains alive..."

Davis shook his head, "I apologize, it's still regarded as an important question that has yet to be answered. We aren't sure what exactly happened next, but at some point Miss Lehane was responsible for the death of the Deputy Mayor of Sunnydale and for the murder of Lester Worth, a professor at the local university. Faith was later admitted to a hospital bearing a serious stab wound and was in a coma for the next year. At some point after she woke up, Miss Lehane was believed to have assaulted several individuals. Police attempted to apprehend her, but she evaded arrest. Miss Lehane later turned herself in to the Los Angeles Police Department with a confession only a few days later. She was convicted of two counts of murder and served three years in a 25-to-life sentence. Several weeks ago, she broke out of prison and disappeared. While she was a fugitive, the Governor met with her lawyers and almost immediately issued a pardon for her."

Hammond's mood had been getting progressively darker as he heard about Faith's life and his eyes widened at Davis' last words. "A pardon, Major?"

The Major looked uncomfortable. "We know that Faith's legal team was taken over by the Wolfram & Hart law firm. They are...significant to the supernatural world but otherwise don't have additional relevance to anything else here."

Hammond could hear the stress in Davis' voice, and he remembered Thor mentioning "the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart." Obviously this law firm was more than just a law firm, but he would let it go for now. He sighed, "Do you know anything about what led to Faith to murder in the first place? Is she a threat to the people on this base?"

Davis didn't speak for a moment and Hammond was relieved that it wasn't an instant 'she's a threat.' He wasn't sure he wanted to explain the situation to Thor if he had to detain her.

"We don't know everything. We know that when she arrived in Sunnydale, she worked with Buffy Summers as a Slayer. We know that she was living in a shabby motel and wasn't reported to be very close to anyone. We're pretty sure that Deputy Mayor Allan Finch's death was an accident but that things spiraled down from there. We know a woman named Gwendolyn Post, who we believe to have been part of the Watchers' Council, arrived in Sunnydale was seen frequently with Faith but later died under dubious circumstances. We know that eventually, Faith assaulted several individuals and likely committed other crimes before she eventually confessed."

"I believe," Davis said slowly, "that she could have escaped prison at any time she wanted. She stayed there for three years when she didn't have to. Her escape doesn't appear to have been premeditated and only took seconds after she broke through reinforced glass and jumping out of a third story window; a jump that she simply got up and walked away from. Not too long after her escape, the strange weather phenomenon that had been taking place in Los Angeles cleared up and the town of Sunnydale just happened to collapse into a sinkhole days later. And we know via CCTV that she was on the last bus leaving Sunnydale in the company of Buffy Summers, her circle of friends, and a number of young women. Many of them appeared to have been injured, some severely."

The Major sighed. "It isn't a stretch to assume that Faith is fighting for the good guys now, and frankly, the supernatural world doesn't particularly care about our laws or morals. You told me me that she arrived without any forewarning on her part or yours. She found herself trapped in a room filled with military personnel and reacted aggressively." Davis looked Hammond in the eye, "But, General, she didn't kill either Teal'c or Jack and she could have. Easily. If not for Thor, you would probably be dead. But you aren't, and she didn't kill the others when she had the chance. That is significant. I won't say you should trust her, but I would allow the situation to develop naturally, for now."

Hammond nodded and tapped a finger against the table in thought. "Sunnydale has been mentioned repeatedly and Thor said there was a portal buried beneath it, but not a Stargate. Do you know what he meant?"

Paul Davis winced. "Sunnydale was originally referred to as 'Boca del Infierno' by its Spanish settlers. To us, that means-"

"Mouth of Hell?" Hammond interjected, not at all liking the possible implications.

"'Hellmouth' is what it seems to be generally referred to as," Davis nodded. "It is a hotspot of supernatural activity which explains the presence of multiple Slayers and...weirdness. We don't know for sure, but if Thor calls it a portal and the supernatural world calls it a 'Hellmouth' then..."

Hammond felt his skin break out in goosebumps. He _definitely_ didn't like _that_ possibility. "Alright Major Davis, thank you for getting me this material."

"Of course, General. With your permissions, I'd also like to remain here at the SGC for the immediate future." Seeing the General's curious look, Davis elaborated. "It's...likely that with Faith here, her companions will eventually seek her out and they might decide to drop in for a visit. It might be good if someone with more background knowledge to remain on site to liaison if necessary."

Hammond looked skeptical. "You believe they could be that much of a threat to us?"

Davis had a grave expression on his face, "General, the city of Sunnydale just collapsed into a sinkhole and there are girls with inhuman strength and speed that might have been responsible for it and might be willing to fight to extract Miss Lehane. We know that a powerful witch is often seen in Buffy Summers' company, a witch who is reputed to have done some very scary things. General, if they thought we were working against them, doing something to Faith, or just doing something nefarious, I'm fairly certain they could kill everyone in this mountain without breaking much of a sweat."

Major Davis left after giving another salute leaving Hammond alone with some very dark thoughts in a room that suddenly felt far less safer.


	6. And I'll Show You Mine

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Six**

 **. _..And I'll Show You Mine_**

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** If Angel and Buffy are on concurrent timelines, Angel would be in its fourth season at this time, meaning Wesley Wyndam-Pryce is more badass than prissy. I'm contemplating making him a major character and that distinction is important to me. He'll have a larger role, but I don't know yet if it's a role that will last. I've been thinking a lot about how I want to integrate AtS or handle its progression. I'm going to do my best to tie that up without the Jasmine drama, or rather the Conner/Cordelia/Jasmine plot progression.

 **Sorentia:** That's what I remembered about O'Neill's background too, but I never found anything on the various wikis to support that. Maybe in the 1994 movie when they first recruited him? Either way, thanks for confirming or at least affirming my earlier beliefs. I'm still somewhat unsure of where I'm taking this story, but expanding it isn't unappealing to me; it's more daunting since I'm trying to not totally disregard Stargate/BtVS/AtS.

* * *

#

Faith spent almost an hour with the good doctor, which was far less time than she had expected to be poked and prodded, but was more than ready to move on. A blood sample, MRI, a quick examination, a few instruments that went 'beep', and she was ready to go. The doctor was observant enough, even without the MRI, to notice her recently broken rib that was now barely healed. Doctor Frasier had tsked at her while she wrapped it up, ignoring Faith's indignant protests. The doctor's reaction to the bite wound on her shoulder was far less placid and Faith had to fight from smiling as Janet berated her and instructed her on the basic care of injuries.

Faith decided that Doctor Frasier didn't need to be told that the wounds were less than 24 hours old and that she was far more resilient to damage than most humans. While she might like Janet and was able to extend some tentative trust towards the people in her new surroundings, she wasn't quite willing to spill everything, especially now that there were Slayers all over the world that could be exploited. To her credit, the doctor didn't question the presence of an obviously unusual bite wound in her shoulder and Faith was content to wait in silence as the doctor applied anti-bacterial gel and a fresh bandage while being scolded for her lack of proper treatment.

"Alright Faith, I suppose I'm done for now, but if you reinjure that rib or reopen that wound, I expect you to come here immediately. Someone should be coming by any moment to rescue you from my clutches."

On the heels of her statement, Colonel O'Neill walked in bearing a styrofoam box and plastic food utensils. "Here you go, kid," he said with a wink. "Some food should erase the horrible memories that Doctor Frasier inflicted upon you."

"Large needles, Colonel O'Neill, I have a new supply of them," Doctor Frasier said, a warning in her voice that was belied by the smile in her eyes. "Keep it up and I'll decide that the nose isn't aligned correctly."

With an aggrieved expression, Jack moved a hand to cover his nose protectively and Faith winced at the injury she'd inflicted. The Colonel saw and waved a hand at her, "Don't worry about it, I don't blame you for it. Here, eat."

Nodding her thanks, Faith took the proffered meal from the older man and sat in a nearby stool to eat the warm eggs and sausage while Doctor Fraiser moved off to check on another patient.

"Teal'c insisted that you eat before he creams you," the man said.

Faith snorted, "Colonel, something tells me those weren't quite the words he used."

"Call me Jack, and no, it was Sam who suggested I bring it to you. Apparently you've already got Daniel betting on you while Sam's on the fence, but I'm still not convinced."

Faith grinned and ate in silence for a bit before she stopped and looked seriously at Jack. "I know you said it was okay, but...sorry about the nose, Jack." As apologies went, it left a lot to be desired, but the older man just shook his head and waved his hand dismissively.

"I don't know what you're talking about Miss Lehane, I'm still looking for that truck that ran me over."

"It's Faith." She grinned and finished up the food. "So where is Teal'c now?" She stood up and stretched her arms and legs.

"Eager, huh? We'll just see how long that lasts."

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Angel?"

The dark haired man who had been standing on the roof staring at the stars turned around with a swirl of his trench coat to look at the blonde woman beside him. And she _was_ a woman, he decided; she'd done a great deal of growing up in the years since he'd first met her in that cemetery and Buffy had been changed by them. She was so much more mature, hardened, independent, and capable. _All_ of the Scoobies were, but few so unmistakably so as her.

"No, Buffy, I'm not."

"I understand you're attached to Faith and Connor but...Angel, this is Wolfram & Hart. I'm comfortable for the idea of Faith being outside of bars now but surely there was another way to arrange a pardon and to have Connor healed?"

"I tried, Buffy. I spoke to every one of my contacts to have Faith released. If she hadn't broken out of prison, it might be possible, but as she is currently a fugitive..." Angel paused and hung his head, "She deserves this Buffy. We could delete her entire digital footprint and conjure up a new identity, but she would still always be looking over her shoulder. And with Connor...I tried every witch, shaman, healer, oracle, seer and none were able to heal Connor's soul. Destroying Jasmine destroyed a part of himself and the fact that the girl is still in a coma doesn't do anything to help."

"Angel...you know this has to be a trap or a ruse. Rewarding you for ending world peace?" Buffy exclaimed skeptically. "As if!"

Angel's lips twitched at the fleeting glimpse of the valley girl persona she had once worn. "I know. But it solves Faith and Connor's problems and maybe, just maybe, it gives us a chance to deal another blow to the bad guys."

Buffy grimaced. "I w-word that we had been here to help." The blonde sighed. "I have to admit though, it's probably a good thing that she wasn't a wanted fugitive at the time of being hijacked into a military base."

It was Angel's turn to grimace. "You're not wrong." He looked curiously at Buffy, "So what are your plans now?"

Buffy sighed and picked at her fingernails. "Some of the girls have already gone home to their families but as for everyone else..." Buffy shrugged. "Until we know for sure what Faith's status is, I'm not going anywhere. Besides, we still have to wait for Giles to return."

"How long do you think he'll be in England?" Angel asked.

Buffy shrugged. "He said it'll take a few weeks just to get a full accounting of the Council's assets and possibly more time to assume control of it all; without them we're gonna have to start flippin' burgers to pay for the new Watchers' Council, which is something I don't want to do again." Buffy scrunched her nose up in confusion, "He also wanted to approach the Crown about helping Faith which I don't get."

"It makes sense." Angel chuckled at the glare he received. "Well you already know the United States government is aware of the supernatural world, to a certain extent at least, and I'm fairly certain that the Watchers' Council had ties to the British monarchy; the Crown would be far more discrete than the government in providing influence and support. Maybe Giles is hoping they'll put pressure on the U.S. to get Faith access to whatever is going on or just to get her released."

"Good ol' Giles," Buffy said with a smile.

They stood in companionable silence until Angel asked quietly, "How are you and Faith?"

Buffy huffed out a long breath. "Faith...we're...I don't know. It's hard for me to let go of all that happened, but we're different people now and we were just teenagers then. We all made mistakes and I've grown up enough to admit that even I, Buffy Summers, made some pretty stupid decisions in regards to Faith. She broke out of prison, broke out to save _you_ and then came straight to Sunnydale knowing the kind of reception she'd get. She's changed; you were right about her." Buffy paused before she spoke softly, "I guess we _are_ alright, and I want her safe."

Angel smiled and nodded. "Well, you can stay in the hotel as long as you want. My people will be starting at Wolfram & Hart on Monday."

"With Cordelia?"

The soft question made Angel go motionless. He turned his head just slightly to see Buffy looking straight ahead with a soft, sad smile.

"It's okay, Angel. You and I...there will always be love there, but we aren't the same people we were a few years ago and neither of us is the person we need the other to be," Buffy said quietly.

Angel wrapped an arm around Buffy's shoulder and pulled her in close. He looked behind him and waved at a concerned Cordelia, who nodded and returned inside.

"But _Cordelia?!_ " Buffy hissed in mock outrage.

Angel laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of Buffy's head.

* * *

Faith looked around the small gym before striding onto the blue mat that Teal'c occupied and took off her boots so that she was also shoeless. "Teal'c...so you're not human, right?"

The black man cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. _Shit, he makes Angel look positively chatty._

Faith looked to the side where the other members of SG-1 stood along with an unfamiliar man wearing a snazzy uniform. All four of them wore a blank face that was answer enough. Looking at the unfamiliar man closer, Faith's lips twitched as she recalled him as the man in the corridor she'd winked at. To her surprise, he was the man that seemed least caught off guard by her question.

"How'd you know?" Jack finally asked.

"Doesn't feel like it." Faith shrugged.

The unfamiliar man strode forward and extended a hand, which she took. "Miss Lehane, I'm Major Paul Davis. I happen to be an individual who is aware of your world and what your status as a 'Slayer' means. I'm mostly here to help prevent misunderstandings or to answer questions." The man's lips twitched. "I am not evil."

Faith considered the man for a moment. "I'm asking about him being human 'cause I need to know how easy to take it."

Her statement was met by a long whistle by Jack and a second raised eyebrow by Teal'c.

Major Davis stared at her for a moment. "Teal'c is a Jaffa. He-"

"No shit! Like Aladdin?"

Everyone stared at her until Jack started laughing. "No, J-a-f-f-a, not Jafar."

Faith looked sheepish, "Ah, sorry, continue."

Davis didn't miss a beat and continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "He is stronger and considerably more durable than most humans."

Faith nodded. "Alright, cool, let's do it."

The Major rejoined Teal'c's teammates and Faith turned to face Teal'c.

#

The fight had started only a minute or so ago.

Jack had almost called it off when Teal'c immediately landed a few punches on the girl's face. But he caught himself when the girl remained standing and... _smiled_.

And now Jack, Sam, Daniel, and Paul Davis watched open-mouthed as Teal'c was lifted bodily in the air and suplexed by Faith onto the blue mat. Jack winced, hearing the breath knocked out of Teal'c from 20 feet away. He watched as, almost impossibly quick, the tiny brunette nimbly flipped herself onto her feet and took a fighting stance facing the former Jaffa, who was still trying to get onto his knees. The girl moved fast, and launched a simple kick that would have caught Teal'c in the ribs, but was instead blocked. Teal'c tried to grab Faith's foot to use as leverage but instead stumbled back after a darting jab took him in the throat.

And then Jack saw it. It was the sort of move you only see in the movies that no one actually ever uses in a fight. Jack watched Faith lunge at Teal'c and leap into the air. Jack wasn't sure how, but somehow she managed to change the trajectory of her body until she was nearly horizontal to the ground, her body spinning towards Teal'c before a foot lashed out lightning quick. The kick caught Teal'c in the chest and launched him into the air with enough force that the large man's feet left the ground and sent him nearly ten feet away before landing on his back with a loud 'thud.'

Jack's mouth remained open as Faith somehow managed to land on all fours and flowed into a standing ready position. She didn't seem to be sweating and her breathing was steady; she was just still and watchful. "Uh...do you yield?"

"Yes, Faith Lehane," Teal'c said as he slowly climbed into his feet, more than a little unsteady.

"Ah shit," Jack cursed, getting his wallet out and shelling a twenty to Daniel.

Jack could already tell that Faith was going to have some bruises, but didn't otherwise look all that roughed up. Teal'c, on the other hand, appeared to have dislocated his right shoulder and was holding his side. To make matters worse, his face was already swelling from bruises left by Faith's fists.

"Teal'c, you alright?" Faith asked, clearly concerned.

"Yes, Faith Lehane," the big dark man said before he smiled. "I have not faced an opponent as skilled as you in some time. Thank you."

Faith seemed at a loss. "You're welcome...need some help with the shoulder?"

Teal'c nodded and his expression tightened when she maneuvered his right arm carefully and pushed upwards sharply.

"I will recover soon enough." The big man sat down heavily.

Faith looked at the others for a moment before a wild grin lit up her face. "So, who's next?"

The looks she received made her smile even wider.

* * *

"Well Doctor Fraiser? What can you tell me?" Hammond asked.

Janet Fraiser shook her head. "She's clean. There is nothing in her DNA, her blood, her muscles, or her bones that would make her physically capable of what she did. I found no abnormalities of any kind other than the amount of broken bones she's had and the number of unusual scars that she bears. I should also note that she had a cracked rib that was barely healed this morning _before_ she fought Teal'c."

General Hammond nodded and looked at the other occupant of the room.

Major Davis shook his head in disbelief. "General, Doctor, I watched that slip of a girl lift Teal'c into the air. I saw her kick him hard enough that he literally flew back. I also told you that the Slayer is _mystical_ in nature. I don't believe you'll be able to find anything, no matter how hard you look, that is physically able to explain what she can do."

"Well, for now Miss Lehane will remain our guest and we'll just have to see if any of her associates feel like talking to us," the General said. "Doctor Fraiser, you're dismissed."

After a salute, Hammond was left alone with Major Davis again. "Major, what exactly do you see happening here?"

"Sir, quite frankly, I don't have a clue. The government has learned that messing with the supernatural rarely yields anything positive. Apparently there are now many Slayers and Thor decided to bring it to our attention. Obviously they would be superior in the field but if they are anything like Faith, they'll lack discipline and any knowledge about basic survival skills. They might be impressive with a sword but I've never heard of them being able to handle anything ranged beyond a crossbow." Davis ran a hand through his short hair in thought before he shrugged. "If it were even _possible_ to recruit a few of these Slayers, and even if they _were_ properly trained, I don't know if it would make that great of a difference in our kind of battles."

Hammond rubbed his chin in thought. "But, if for some reason one or more of them decided to help us out, putting them on _our_ side of the gate might give us a little more peace of mind, or for special missions that suit their skillset."

And the Major's surprised look, General Hammond chuckled. "It's worth thinking about, at any rate. Dismissed, Major."

Alone with his thoughts again, he turned around and watched the video of Faith's match with Teal'c. He watched the moments Davis had described and shook his head in disbelief. "Things just got a whole lot more complicated," he muttered.

* * *

Jack and Daniel were apparently going into town, which Faith finally discovered was Colorado Springs. Teal'c was resting in his quarters which made Faith feel guilty but Sam had remained with Faith, chatting and showing her about. Eventually they ended up in Sam's lab, where Faith sat in a corner out of Sam's way. She spent time thinking about all that she'd learned. About the Stargate, about the Goa'uld, about some of SG-1's adventures and shenanigans. Faith vowed to never, ever make fun of Andrew for his love of Wormhole X-treme again.

Around noon, General Hammond had asked to speak with her. Upon Major Davis' recommendation and his superiors' approval, she had been told that she could invite a single person to the facility so that her friends would be more at ease with her unexpected presence at Stargate Command. She'd been deep in thought since leaving the General's presence, trying to figure out what she was doing here, why, and who of her friends would be of greatest value here.

Faith made her decision.

"Hey Sam, mind if I use the phone?"

Sam looked up from her computer and whatever test she was running. "Sure Faith, but you'll need to take Airman Williams with you, he should be outside the door. Sorry," the blonde woman apologized with a helpless gesture.

"Thanks." Faith stood, left the lab and allowed herself to be led by Airman Williams to the phones.

* * *

Angel sat with Cordelia quietly watching the Slayers unwind and relax. They still took nightly patrols through the streets of Los Angeles, but the weight of the world no longer rested on their shoulders and that fact was reflected by the laughter that echoed in the hotel periodically. They, the Scoobies and the members of Angel Investigations, had discussed their plans regarding the Slayers, Wolfram & Hart, and the new developments regarding Faith.

When "Super Freak" began playing from Angel's _other_ phone, the room quieted instantly. Buffy rolled her eyes when Cordelia and Xander high-fived and snickered at their clever idea for a ringtone.

"Faith?" Angel asked immediately.

"Hey big guy," came their missing Slayer's voice on speaker.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah...I'm well, you know, five by five. Had some blue jello last night and eggs and sausage for breakfast. Got to beat someone up. A good day, all in all."

Angel quirked an eyebrow at Buffy, who just shrugged. "Will they let you go?"

"They told me I'm free to go in the mornin'. They did a blood test and a physical, but nothin' besides that. They also told me I could stay for a little longer if I wanted."

"Why would you?" Angel asked, confused.

Faith was silent for a moment. "These people...they ain't the Initiative, had no clue what a Slayer was, but...they're good people. I can't say exactly what their doing, but it's...cool."

Angel's eyes widened and Buffy's mouth dropped. Buffy mouthed, 'possessed?' at Angel who smiled and shook his head.

" _Are_ you planning on staying there?"

"I don't know, I don't think I'd want to be here on my own. But these guys are doing something important, in their own way. They told me I could invite someone to the base. One of the Tweed Brigade would like it, and again, no, they don't appear to be evil."

Buffy's brow furrowed and Angel shrugged. "What were you thinking?"

"I know G-man is busy with stuff, so..." There was a pause and Buffy knew why Faith was hesitating. "If Princess Margaret is willing, I think he'd get somethin' out of it. If he's not, I suppose I'll go ahead and leave, but I'll need a lift."

Buffy's mouth quirked at Faith's old nickname for Wesley and saw the former Watcher's face redden.

Angel frowned, still clearly uncertain, but carried on. "Can we think it over and tell you tomorrow?"

"Sure big guy. Everybody okay?"

"Of course, Faith." Angel said with a soft smile.

"Alright, well tell B to stop frowning and I'll catch you tomorrow."

The phone clicked off and Angel turned to see Buffy trying to hide her frown. He snickered.

Buffy pouted and poked Angel's chest in retaliation and sighed. "Well?" she asked the assembled group.

"I hate it when government people might be evil," Willow complained grumpily.

"It's the The Man, Will, they're always evil," Xander replied.

Gunn glared as Xander, "Dude, I'm pretty sure _you_ don't get to complain about The Man."

Buffy shushed them and turned to Wesley.

"Angel, have either you or Lorne learned anything about what might be going on?" the blonde asked.

"Not really. It's hard to be subtle when you're inquiring about a secret military base. I didn't learn much. Seems like Colorado is sort of a dead spot for the supernatural community. Other than Denver and Colorado Springs, there aren't really any large human population centers that demons can hide themselves in. Colorado Springs is even lower on the activity scale after word got out about the Initiative; demons don't particularly care for being experimented on and the fact that Fort Carson and NORAD are just a half hour away..." Angel trailed off.

Buffy nodded, "Will?"

"There is an ongoing project within the mountain dubbed 'deep-space radar telemetry' which is cool but not particularly secret-y, except that they have some wicked advanced security protocols and firewalls I've never seen or heard of before that I didn't want to mess with. Bupkis besides that." Seeing the roomful of confused faces, she rolled her eyes. "We don't know anything."

Buffy sighed, "So we're totally in the dark."

"I had forgotten about that charming nickname," Wesley lamented, shaking his head. The Englishman tapped his fingers in thought for a moment. "While she is considerate enough to remain using those nicknames, I doubt they will be sufficient to keep our identities unknown for long."

Gunn nodded. "Yeah, but I don't think that really matters." At the incredulous looks he received, he elaborated. "Look, between those Initiative dudes you talked about and whatever else the government knows, figuring out who the Slayer's friends are probably isn't hard. Especially not with English being the dude who accompanied Faith out that window on her jail break."

"But why would she think Wes would be interested in something military?" Dawn asked, brows furrowed.

"Because it's not something exclusively military," Gunn answered with a 'duh!' tone of voice.

"But not evil either..." Buffy mused. "If whatever they're doing is under the mountain like you said, Willow, that means they might've been doing it for a long time. There hasn't been any world end-age and the city is still there...so they haven't messed up too bad. Yet. Hopefully."

Kennedy glowered at Buffy and rapped her knuckles against the nearest wooden surface.

Xander raised a tentative hand, "But do we want to let one of us walk in there alone? Even with Faith already there?"

Wesley grimaced. "It doesn't seem like a particularly wise but-"

"You should go."

Everyone turned to see Cordelia who was holding her head with her eyes shut tightly. "Cordy," Angel asked worriedly, "You alright?"

The emotion in his voice made Buffy look away but she heard Cordelia's response. "Yeah, I'm alright, or I will be."

"What is it, Cordelia, what did you see?" Wesley asked.

The former cheerleader thanked Fred for the glass of water she received before responding. "I'm not actually sure, but I don't think whatever is happening is a bad thing, but I felt like it was something we should know about. It has something to do with pyramids...and weird funky snakes," Cordelia said before flushing at the stares she received.

"Well, I suppose that answers that," Wesley sighed in resignation.

"Not entirely, English," Gunn said. "Even if you're going in there, we need to have a plan in case things go bad."

Both Angel and Buffy nodded in agreement before looking at each other.

"Willow, I want you, Xander, Kennedy, and Vi to go with Wes to Colorado. Xander, you know more about the military than anyone else, I want you to help Wes figure out what he needs to watch for. Willow, you'll keep an eye on things and keep us all in contact. You, Kennedy and Vi, are gonna be Wes and Faith's backup if things go sour. Is that alright with you guys?"

Seeing their nods and verbal agreement, she turned to Angel.

"I'll arrange their flights and lodgings," the Vampire said before Buffy had a chance to ask.

Buffy laid a hand on his shoulder in thanks before she sat down between Xander and Willow and basked in their nearness while she tried not to worry about Faith.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So, quick recap. 1) Connor slept with a nameless woman which resulted in Jasmine's presence. The result of the ordeal resulted in Connor's soul being damaged. 2) Angel accepted Wolfram & Hart's offer to take over the L.A. branch in return for the Connor's recovery and Faith's pardon.


	7. Tweed

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Seven**

 _ **Tweed**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Sorry for the delay in updates, hopefully this chapter will make up for it. Also, just thought I'd do a mini-rant and express how much I dislike seeing song lyrics in stories. It drives me nuts. It seems like 90% of the time the only real purpose is to increase the word count of the story and doesn't actually contribute at all. /rant

 **PanchoPistolas:** To be honest, I'm not entirely sure where I'm taking this story either. I'm considering dividing the story into parts to allow for time skips to create a new plot direction. For example, ending this plot with Faith deciding to explore working for the SGC and the second part ending with her completing the necessary training to begin that work. Unlike my other stories, I'm kinda making this one up as I go, rather than having a predetermined story path.  
 **Rayman898:** I'm not sure how much of Thor we'll be seeing, but probably not as much as you'd like. I'll see what I can do, though.

* * *

#

 **June 14th, 2003**

"General, here's the information we have on Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," Major Davis said, selecting a thin folder from the large stack he had previously given his superior. "In February of 1999, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce relocated from England to Sunnydale, California and was active for a period of time that was nearly concurrent with Miss Lehane's stay. Given his origins, we assume that he was a representative of the Watchers' Council and served as a Watcher to either Miss Lehane or Miss Summers. It wasn't too long after his arrival that Miss Lehane was put into a coma and hospitalized. Mr. Pryce was involved, in an unknown capacity, in the subsequent events that led to the death of the Mayor and the destruction of the local high school."

Seeing General Hammond's raised eyebrow, he elaborated, "We don't know the entire story, but we believe that the explosives used to destroy the school were specifically intended to kill the local Mayor. Mayor Richard Wilkins III was involved in shady dealings with the supernatural world, which likely resulted in him coming into conflict with Buffy Summers, the other Slayer."

Major Davis, paused for a moment and cleared his throat, "A short digression if you don't mind, General, about Miss Lehane and the Mayor. We know that Miss Lehane was close to the Mayor, and that he was the one responsible for relocating her from a shoddy motel to an upscale apartment in the city. He reportedly doted on her and was something of a surrogate father to her; they appeared to genuinely care for each other, despite Mr. Wilkin's immoral disposition. Their close friendship almost certainly contributed to her initial criminal acts and ultimately into conflict with Miss Summers and her circle of friends, which is likely how she ended up in a coma."

Hammond made an unhappy face but nodded his understanding and motioned Davis to continue.

"Shortly after the Mayor's death, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, instead of remaining in Sunnydale or returning to England, instead moved to Los Angeles where he began working for Angel Investigations, a private investigation service."

Hammond paused and gave Major Davis a very steady stare. "Let me get this straight, Major. Miss Lehane wants to invite a private investigator _here_?" Hammond asked incredulously.

Davis straightened. "Yes sir, keep in mind that Mr. Wyndam-Pryce was a member of the Watchers' Council, an ancient secretive organization dedicated to fighting supernatural creatures. It's doubtful that Angel Investigations specializes in anything mundane and is rather geared towards the supernatural world. The leader of this group is, in fact, a vampire."

"A vampire?" General Hammond frowned. "I'm assuming Faith is aware of that fact, why is he still alive then?"

"From all reports, he is a vampire that is...reformed. He's the one responsible for Faith turning herself in to the police and is one of the few that visited her in prison," Major Davis replied.

"It was my understanding that vampires can't _reform_ , as you put it." Hammond saw the Major wince and knew immediately he wouldn't like what was coming.

"What we have is hearsay only, but apparently he was cursed with a soul." At Hammond's sour face, Davis continued, "Known as the Scourge of Europe, Angel or Angelus was responsible for killing wantonly and indiscriminately for a _very_ long time. When he was given his soul, he was forced to confront his atrocities, hence the curse. He is trying to atone for the things he's done."

Hammond massaged his temples and shook his head. "My life was far simpler when all we had to watch out for was the occasional System Lord and Tok'ra politics."

Davis nodded sympathetically. "With respect sir, that's one of the reasons why we keep that world a secret."

"So what do you think about this 'Wesley'?"

Davis shrugged. "By all accounts, he's probably one of the most harmless and most knowledgeable people Faith could have chosen. That doesn't mean he's _not_ dangerous, just that when compared to her other associates..." Davis indicated the various folders.

"One of the Watchers..." Hammond considered, tapping a pen against the table in thought. "I suppose finding out if they knew anything about the Stargate would be interesting, or perhaps about the human rebellion in Egypt, if the Watchers' Council is as old as you say. I'll have him brought in this evening."

At Major Davis' confused look, Hammond sighed, "He's already in town."

* * *

"Okay Wes, you ready?"

Wesley answered Willow's question with a nod. "If something goes wrong, twist the gem in the ring and you'll be there in a 'jiffy'."

"Yep," Willow smiled nervously.

"You sure you want to do this, Wesley?" Xander asked. "I know you and Faith are...you know..."

Wesley raised a hand to quiet the man. "We all made mistakes in the past, Xander. Faith, you, I, all of us. I cannot and will not _forget_ the choices she's made, but I can _forgive_ her and support her on her new path. As far as I'm concerned, she redeemed herself when she nearly died trying to save Angel and her subsequent sojourn to Sunnydale. And to be quite honest, I'm interested in seeing what has her so uncharacteristically excited."

Xander winced. "Alright. While you're gone, I'll be taking the girls to a shooting range, give them a rundown just in case. I figure storming a military base with stakes probably isn't a good idea, even with our big gun here," he finished, bumping Willow with his shoulder.

Willow gave a nervous nod that became more confident when Kennedy took her hand in hers.

"Let's pray it doesn't come to that, but it _would_ be prudent. I'll be sure to call you within the next 24 hours." Wesley rubbed at the scar on his neck absentmindedly. "They should be here soon, I suppose I better head to the lobby."

Willow gave him a hug. "Be careful Wes."

"I will. Make sure that all of you take great care as well," Wesley smiled. Bumping Kennedy's fist with his own, he nodded to the others and left.

#

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?"

Wesley looked up from the local newspaper he had been perusing and saw a blonde woman wearing what he assumed to be an Air Force uniform. He stood up and offered a hand, "Yes, but please call me Wesley."

To his surprise the woman smiled warmly and shook it. "I'm Major Samantha Carter, and you can call me Sam. I assume you would be someone Faith would describe as "tweed"?

Wesley shook his head in exasperation and looked down at himself. He wore denim jeans, a black button down shirt, and his brown jacket. "Not so much anymore, but yes." At the woman's gesture, he followed her to a waiting black sedan with tinted windows. He couldn't help but feel somewhat better that she had shown up in uniform rather than disguised or anonymously in some attempt to conceal themselves from the public, but he still watched her out of the corner of his eye.

When Sam caught his eye, she smiled. "Faith said you'd be pretty leery of us; I understand better now. She's told us some things about your world, but not a whole lot about the people she knows. But she does think that we might each have questions _and_ answers for the other."

Wesley considered the statement for a moment before he asked a question, "When you first met her...you truly didn't know what Faith was, or what she faces?"

The blonde shook her head. "Faith was dropped in by another party." Seeing his expression, she winced. "I can't say anything about that, not yet at least."

Wesley nodded his understanding. "Will I be able to see Faith soon?"

"It won't take long to reach the base. You can see her as soon as you go through a few security checks."

Wesley nodded again, not really surprised by the answer. There was silence in the car for almost ten minutes before he spoke again. "You've spent time with her then?" To his amusement, the woman blushed and shook her head, in exasperation rather than denial. "Ah yes, I see you have."

"Has she always been so..."

Wesley smiled. "Yes, she has. You might be astonished to know that she's actually mellowed out."

But Sam shook her head. "No...she said that her time in prison had been good for her."

"It was," Wesley confirmed but said nothing else.

They remained quiet for the rest of the trip.

* * *

No long after a professional but entirely uncomfortable search of his person, Wesley found himself following Sam through a labyrinth of identical looking grey corridors. There weren't any audible screams or pleading for mercy, no blood on the floors or smeared on the walls, so that was a good start. He was eventually taken to a conference room where six individuals were seated.

At the opposite side of the room at the head of a table was a no-nonsense looking bald man. Next to him was a large black man bearing a strange symbol on his forehead. Beside him was an older man with salt and pepper hair and a bandaged nose. A younger brown haired man wearing glasses was next in line. On the head of the table nearest to Wesley was a young looking man dressed as formally as Sam was. And alone in the middle on the other side of the table sat Faith, wearing a plain white t-shirt and grey sweatpants.

She _smiled_ at him.

Wesley could tell that she was genuinely happy to see him and might have attempted an exorcism if not for the slight strain in her smile. The strain in her smile that was always caused by his presence, he knew. No one likes to be reminded of their mistakes, especially not by a man whom she'd so brutally tortured one night. But her eyes carried little of the shadows cast by darker memories, obviously overwhelmed by the relief at the sight of him and Wesley couldn't help but be proud at how far she'd come in the time he'd known her.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, please take a seat," the bald man said, indicating to either of the chairs next to Faith. "I'm General Hammond, thank you for coming."

"Please, call me Wesley, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce is my father," Wesley said with a slight smile. He sat on the side closest to the General while Sam sat on the other side of Faith. Wesley shot a searching look at Faith.

"I'm alright, Wes," she softly, patting his knee underneath the table.

Wesley took her at her word. "Thank you for the invitation. I must admit we were greatly concerned when Faith disappeared." The words were spoken with an edge that made the other occupants of the room sit up just a bit straighter.

The General indicated the large black man whose face was littered with bruises, "This is Teal'c. Beside him are Colonel Jack O'Neill and Dr. Daniel Jackson."

Daniel Jackson's name seemed familiar, but Wesley was unsure why and decided to put it out of his mind for the moment.

The man on the other side of the table turned to speak to Wesley. "Wesley, I'm Major Paul Davis. I'm don't actually serve under General Hammond's command; I am his liaison with the Pentagon. As far as I know, prior to Miss Lehane's arrival, I was the only one that might have had any knowledge about who or what she is. My role here is to observe and provide background information when necessary. I am sure that you have a lot of questions just as we do. Before any sensitive information is said, I would appreciate it if you and Miss Lehane would sign these non-disclosure forms."

Wesley looked over the form and considered them, glancing at Faith who was clearly waiting for his say-so. Finally he looked back at the Major. "I'm afraid I'm not entirely comfortable doing so. The supernatural world is one that requires discretion and for Faith and our associates to survive in it, we must share in that discretion. I can agree to remain silent about what we see or discuss only to a certain point, that point being where not sharing that knowledge might endanger lives."

Faith nodded. "I know a pinky swear probably doesn't mean much, but I mean..." she trailed off, somewhat embarrassed.

Major Davis considered them for a moment. "Alright."

"Seriously?" Faith blurted.

"Major?" General Hammond questioned.

Major Davis smiled slightly. "I hoped that you would have, but Mr-I'm sorry, Wesley makes a valid point. More importantly is the fact that the British government somehow found out about Miss Lehane's presence here and have convinced my superiors to allow full disclosure without signing the paperwork."

Wesley smiled then and mouthed 'Giles' at Faith, who made an 'oh' face and smirked.

"Alright then, where should we begin?" General Hammond prompted.

"Fuckin' aliens, Wes! They're dealing with aliens! And...and Stargates! I got to meet Thor, he was all Roswell man. You wouldn't believe..." she stopped speaking abruptly, flushing at the looks directed her way. "Sorry, just got excited is all. Um, can we show him the Stargate first. I think knowin' what that's all about might help on them trust issues."

General Hammond studied her for a moment and nodded. "Very well. Dr. Jackson, why don't you take our guests on a tour?"

"Sure. Wesley, Faith, if you'll come with me?" The archaeologist said and led them out the door.

After a few moments, Jack murmured, "I sure hope you all know what you're doing."

"So do I, Colonel," Hammond said softly.

Paul Davis murmured an agreement.

* * *

Wesley stared at the device Faith had dubbed a Stargate. He hadn't really taken Faith's exclamation about aliens very seriously, still confident that it was the occult that the military was once again dabbling in. He remembered Cordelia's vision about pyramids and inwardly shivered as he noted the Egyptian hieroglyphics that ringed the device. He did his best to remember if he had ever heard or seen anything of such an artifact from all his studies and came up with nothing.

Beside him, he saw Faith fidgeting and looking at him anxiously and he had a sudden insight. These people, this military program had found out what she was and all the terrible things she had done. And they had shared this with her. Wesley hadn't been sure of what he'd find here, of Faith or her new acquaintances, but he was relieved to find that they had treated her with decency. He imagined that having a fresh start in this sort of environment could be just the opportunity Faith had been hoping for. Wesley would continue being vigilant about such possibilities, but he was still quite astonished at what Faith had uncovered. One of his original concerns prompted him to break the silence.

"Doctor Jackson-" and then he stopped. He stopped because he remembered. He remembered an archaeologist presenting a radical theory about the pyramids and being subsequently booted out of the scientific community. He remembered his father had scoffed at the presentation and the notion of aliens. A sly smile crept up Wesley's face. "Ah, I remember now. I imagine you must feel quite vindicated about your theory from years ago."

The other man smiled. "I admit that it brings a smile to my face every now and then."

"I imagine so. I never received an answer for an earlier question: How did Faith arrive here?"

Doctor Jackson wore a rueful smile. "In our explorations of the galaxy, we've made enemies. But we've also made some allies, powerful ones that occasionally lend us some help. I told you that we had no idea that a supernatural community actually existed on this planet, but..." He paused and ran a hand down his cropped hair, "One race we've become allies with are the Asgard who are an old and incredibly advanced race. An individual we're particularly friendly with, Thor, expressed his concern about the collapse of Sunnydale and a portal and about the sudden influx of Slayers. He then presented us with Faith, and left."

"An extraterrestrial race has knowledge of the Slayer?" Wesley asked, astonished.

"And demons," Faith confirmed.

"When we asked why we hadn't been told, Thor told us that the portal wasn't our jurisdiction," Daniel said, "that it was the Slayer's."

At that, the Englishman's eyebrows flew up. "Oh my."

"That was about our reaction as well," Daniel smiled.


	8. Warning

**— Thor's Slayers —**

 **Chapter Eight**

 _ **Warning**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I apologize for the delay guys. I began a new job this week and it's set back my writing progress considerably. I'll do what I can to keep up with my earlier pace. I also apologize for the short chapter.

 **Sorentia:** That's pretty much along the lines with what I'm thinking regarding my story structure. However, rather than posting a new story for each new story arc, I think I'd rather keep it in _this_ story and divide it into clearly distinguishable parts.  
 **kirylyn:** I've always been fascinated with Faith's character and feel like she hasn't been given enough of the spotlight. I haven't yet decided on what to do with the rest of the Scooby Gang, but I believe I've made it clear that, other than Wesley, the other characters from Angel won't have much of a role. For the moment, I'm content with letting Faith and Wesley have the spotlight.

On that note: No, I have not decided to make Wesley and Faith a couple and _should_ there be a romance, it will not be between those two.

* * *

#

Faith wrinkled her nose as she, Daniel, and Wesley walked into Daniel's lair, as Colonel O'Neill had referred to it as. "This place looks all kinds of boring to me." Then she glanced at Wesley and grinned, "But I bet you're about ready to pitch a tent, huh?"

Wesley rolled his eyes and saw Daniel blush slightly.

"Still blushin' Doctor J," Faith teased.

At Wesley's inquisitive eyebrow, Daniel huffed. "Apparently, Faith has made it her mission to see exactly how red in the face I can get."

"She is a woman of many talents," the former Watcher said simply. Wesley took a seat and gazed at the various photographs, tombs, and notebooks that littered every surface and wall. "I have to say, Daniel, that quite I'm impressed with this operation. From what I understand, you all have come very far."

Daniel accepted the compliment with a nod. "We have. We aren't perfect, I know that one of your and your associates' concerns is that what we're doing might spillover and make all of our lives more dangerous. I can't promise you that it won't happen; we have powerful enemies who would see humanity destroyed or enslaved."

"Even so, if I understood you correctly, this race had already been our enemies long before your recent forays. Since then, you've found allies and discovered methods and technology that gives humanity the means to defend our planet. This is not something any Slayer could have done."

Daniel nodded in agreement.

Wesley stiffened then and turned sharply towards Faith. "Faith, no matter what, Andrew must never know."

Faith's reply was just as grave, "Yeah, I figured that one out pretty soon, too."

Turning back around he waved off Daniel's curious look.

Daniel shrugged then seemed to perk up. "It seems like it might be up your alley, so I thought I'd ask, do you know much in the way of Sumerian or Egyptian?"

"Sumerian, yes. Egyptian, not particularly. Why?"

"I found this tablet on the last planet we visited and I couldn't figure out what language it was in. I thought it might be Sumerian but it was a little off." Daniel handed the picture over for Wesley to examine.

Faith stood up to look over Wesley's shoulder.

"Do you know what the symbol at the top means?" Wesley asked.

"It's the symbol for Earth," Daniel answered.

Wesley spent a few minutes looking it over. Her attention wandering, Faith had sat back down and was looking over some of the pictures Daniel had up in his office, but her attention reverted back to Wesley when the man stiffened and paled.

Daniel noticed as well and frowned. "Wesley?"

"You said you found this on another _planet_?"

"Yes..." Daniel cautiously answered.

"What's the what, Wes?" Faith asked.

"This is a demonic language, a fairly common one that I'm relatively familiar with, if I'm correct."

"A demonic language?" Daniel asked, "There's more than one? And why would it be found on another planet?"

"There are hundreds...thousands of demon species, Doctor Jackson, some of the more intelligent species have their own cultures and languages," Wesley explained. "As for your second question, I'm afraid I haven't the slightest clue."

"Well, whats it say?" Faith asked, frowning.

"As literally as I can make it, it reads: 'Beware Earth. Ancient Powers lay in the Great Abyss,'" Wesley said, still looking at the picture he held in his hands. "However, it would read more appropriately for humans as 'Beware Earth. Old Ones rest in the Deeper Well.'"

The translation was obviously significant to both Wesley and Faith based on their reactions, Daniel noticed. "This is something you know of?"

It was more statement than guess, but Wesley answered anyways. "Oh yes. Daniel," Wesley said softly. The former Watcher considered the picture for a moment longer before he spoke again. "I believe it would be prudent to keep an eye on anyone who visits that location."

"Why?" Daniel asked, brow furrowed.

"The Deeper Well is a burial ground, a hole in the Earth that begins on one side of the world and extends all the way to the other. Exceptionally powerful and dangerous beings are buried or imprisoned there, the most prominent of which are the Old Ones," Wesley answered carefully.

Daniel's mouth opened but when words failed him, closed. He tapped a pen on the table and said nothing for a while. "Since I'm pretty sure "magic" would be the answer to most of my 'how' questions regarding the Deeper Well, I'll skip that part," he said wryly. "If these Old Ones are buried there, are they still a threat?" Daniel asked.

"Now, not as such. But they do retain the potential to become one. They aren't dead so much as dormant," Wesley explained. More grimly, he added, "However, if even one were to be roused from their sleep or somehow resurrected, unspeakable destruction would follow."

"What _are_ these Old Ones, and how likely is it anyone _would_ be able to resurrect or wake them?" Daniel asked. His eyes darted to Faith, who had stilled and looked away

Wesley glanced at Faith before turning back to Daniel. The Englishman had a pained look on his face and spoke quietly. "Sunnydale High School was destroyed in the process of stopping exactly that from happening just a few years ago. Daniel, the Old Ones were the original owners of this planet. Pure-breed demons with such strength that they were akin to gods from our perspective."

"Give 'em the G-man speech, Wes," Faith murmured, finally turning to look back at the archaeologist.

"An associate of mine has a speech that lays it all out rather plainly; I probably should have started from that, to be honest. Keep in mind that this 'speech', as Faith so quaintly put it, is a simplified accounting of events, a creation narrative of sorts," Wesley explained and took a deep breath. "The world is far stranger than you know. For eons demons walked the Earth; they made it their home and fashioned it into something we might call Hell. But in time, they lost their purchase on this reality. The way was made for mortal animals, for man. All that remains of the Old Ones are vestiges, certain magics, and certain creatures."

Faith nodded her approval. "Close enough. I dig your version more than G-man's."

Daniel shook his head. "I would love to hear more about this at some point, Wesley. If these ruins are as important as you say, I'll go ahead and notify General Hammond of your recommendation regarding surveillance." The man sighed, "I have to say it's pretty incredible that you were dropped off here so soon after we found this site."

"Doubt it was luck, Doctor J," Faith said, grimacing.

Wesley nodded. "Coincidences rarely occur in our world, Daniel. You could call it fate, but there are higher powers out there who put us where we need to be, when we need to be there."

"I suppose I'll have to take your word for it." Daniel stood up then. "I don't know about you guys, but I feel like hitting the cafeteria."

Wesley and Faith stood up as well and followed Daniel. "Time to get our jello on, I guess," Faith mused before stage whispering to Wesley, "apparently the blue stuff is the best."

"I'll bear that in mind, Faith."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Okay, so if you didn't get it, I'm setting some groundwork for Part Two. I'm going to try to complete Part One with the next chapter or two.


	9. Getting on with the Explain-y

**— Thor's Slayers —**

 **Chapter Nine**

 ** _Getting on with the Explain-y_**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Again, sorry for the delay folks. I just haven't had much time to work on the story, but not to fret, I have by no means forgotten the story.

* * *

#

Wesley watched Faith walk away from their table to "visit the little Slayer's room," as she had so charmingly put it. He had been doing a great deal of watching really, watching Faith's interactions, watching the Americans, watching the way they treated each other and Faith. Frankly, he had been doing enough watching that he could justify calling himself an actual Watcher. _Bloody hell, I've been America for too long, I'm even beginning to acquire their terrible sense of humor._

Daniel, Faith, and he had just sat down in the cafeteria when Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill had turned up and joined them at their table. They had just sat down when Faith announced her departure. Wesley turned his attention to the others who were also observing the vibrant young woman's exit.

"You appear to have been very good for her," he said softly, breaking the momentarily silence.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

Wesley looked down at the table for a moment, weighing his words. "How much has she spoken about her life and about the events that led to her incarceration?"

The Americans glanced at each other. Colonel O'Neill spoke for the others. "She told us about some of the things she did. Not much in the way of details, but she said enough."

Wesley nodded. "Speaking as the man whom she tortured for the better part of an evening, I won't say that she isn't culpable for the way things ended." He nodded at their shocked looks and absently ran a finger down one of the scars her attack had left, one of the physical ones, anyway. He let out a long breath. "She has not led a very happy life, I'm afraid. From what I've discovered, she has rarely known any true happiness. What happiness she held onto in Boston was ripped away from her when her Watcher was murdered by vampires. She ran, and eventually found herself in Sunnydale because she knew that Buffy, the other Slayer, resided there."

"If I might interrupt, Wesley, how is Faith a Slayer? We've been told that there should only be _one_ at any given time. Faith explained why there are many now, but not how she was originally Called when Buffy still lived," Daniel asked.

"Ah, I can shed some light on that. Buffy did die, actually, long enough for another Slayer to be called. She had been drowned by a particularly powerful vampire but later revived by a friend. Anyhow, back to Faith. From what I understand Buffy and Faith initially got on well, but Faith was clearly an outsider to the group. She was in an entirely undesirable situation, staying in a seedy motel and not entirely welcome by the people she hoped might support or befriend her."

Wesley jabbed his finger into the table angrily. "And enter one Gwendolyn Post. Post arrived in Sunnydale, ostensibly to take over duties as Faith's Watcher. What wasn't known by the others was that Gwendolyn Post had in fact gone rogue and was determined to retrieve a certain artifact for her own personal gain. Post's tutelage of Faith gradually formed a wedge between her and the others, making matters even worse. Intentionally. Eventually Post's efforts were discovered and she was killed; I'm sure you can imagine how Faith felt about the outcome of that debacle."

Jack scowled and Sam looked stricken.

"And then I came along. I quite possibly cocked things up just as badly as that bitch, Post, and I didn't even have the excuse of being evil," Wesley said, scowling.

"What do you mean?" Daniel asked, frowning.

"I have done a lot of growing up in the last few years, Daniel. But when I first arrived in Sunnydale, I was much...less than I am now. I was pompous, inept, and totally unprepared to handle the reality of the situation of being a Watcher or of caring for a girl like Faith. Almost immediately after my arrival, Faith accidentally killed the Deputy Mayor of Sunnydale. She had been in a fight along with Buffy against a group of vampires when the Deputy Mayor decided it was a good idea to drop in at that moment. Faith reacted on instinct and killed him with a stake to the heart, believing him to be one of the vampires."

Wesley pointed at Daniel to get his attention. "I'm fairly certain you noticed Faith's discomfort when we spoke about Old Ones and Ascension?" At Daniel's nod, he continued. "Allan Finch, the Deputy Mayor, had intended to warn Buffy and Faith about the Mayor's plans. The Mayor, Richard Wilkins, was actually a human attempting to ascend into the body of one of those Old Ones. After the Deputy Mayor's death and subsequent falling out with Buffy and her circle, Faith believed herself alone and soon found herself working for the Mayor."

The former Watcher shook his head. "There were several points where Faith had the opportunity to stop, to think about what she was doing. An associate of mine was able to convince her to do just that until I, in my self-righteousness, interfered and arranged for her to be turned over to the Watchers' Council for her role in killing Finch. She quickly escaped the Watchers' custody and dedicated herself wholeheartedly to the Mayor. One of the true terrible truths about these events is that the Mayor, evil as he was, genuinely cared about Faith. It was _he_ who cared enough to move her out of that horrid motel and it was _he_ who was consistently there for her. Though the Mayor _did_ care for her, he also used her, as an errand girl and eventually as an assassin."

"It wasn't too long before Faith found herself fighting Buffy. In the course of their fight, Faith was stabbed and rendered comatose for the better part of a year. When she woke, she discovered the Mayor had been killed. Faith, in her grief that a man she had cared for was dead and the self-loathing caused by the realization that the evil things she had done had come to nothing, sought revenge. Her subsequent rampage resulted in her assault of numerous individuals, mostly individuals belonging to Buffy Summers' circle of friends, and my own torture. During the course of my torture, Angel, my associate who had nearly talked her down in Sunnydale, was able to save me. They fought, and Angel came to the realization that Faith was trying to make Angel kill her, hoping that someone would do what she could not and kill her and put her out of her misery. Angel refused and Faith broke. She turned herself in to the police shortly thereafter."

The others were silent for some time.

Colonel O'Neill shook his head and blew out a breath. "I thought our lives were exciting, apparently not. But despite all...that...she seems like a good girl, despite the broken nose."

"She's responsible for that?" Wesley asked.

"Ah, it occurred the moment she arrived. She was disoriented and less than pleased," the Colonel explained, wincing as he touched his bandaged nose. "I can't exactly blame her for that."

"You're lucky to be alive," Wesley stated gravely. "Is that how...Teal'c, was it?...yes, Teal'c was injured?"

Sam shook her head. "No, but she _did_ attack him when she first arrived on the base. Why?"

Wesley idling traced his fingers along the edge of his glass while he spoke. "Slayers have something of a sixth sense when it comes to detecting the presence of something nonhuman; it's one of their talents that make them so unique and effective."

Colonel O'Neill smiled ruefully. "While she _did_ manage to knock his ass down at the time, most of his injuries occurred later in a sparring match with her."

"Brave man," Wesley commented with obvious sincerity.

"She had said that bad luck and bad circumstances were part of how it all went wrong," Daniel said softly, "But I couldn't have imagined all that."

"I told you that you were good for her," Wesley said. "And I meant it. When I first saw her here, she seemed...content. Perhaps the happiest I've ever actually seen her. Though I must admit the notion of space battles and traveling to new planets has me wanting to dance a little internal jig as well."

The Colonel grinned. "I know."

"You guys done chattin' about me yet?" Faith asked, taking her seat back and then languidly draped an arm around Sam's chair. To Wesley's amusement, the blonde's cheeks went a little pink at the gesture. _Faith might be on the path to redemption, but she's still Faith,_ he thought, bemused but also reassured.

Daniel looked uncomfortable at Faith's comment, but the brunette waved a hand. "I expected it, figured you'd want to know how a dazzlin', charmin' gal like me ended up on the inside of a jail cell. I already told Wes he could share but I didn't feel like stayin' for it, ya know? I already lived it once, I want no part in _re_ livin' it."

Jack nodded. "I have to say, as a member of the United States armed forces, I should probably express some sort of disapproval at your jail break. Consider my disapproval expressed."

Faith smiled, "Noted."

"But..." Jack continued, "I know prison isn't easy, and you went straight from prison to here without much downtime, from what I hear. Gotta say, you seem to have a pretty good handle on things, Faith."

"Just like riding a biker," Wesley murmured.

Faith shot him a wicked smile. "Damn right, English."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Next chapter will be the conclusion of the first part of this story/series.


	10. Coalescence

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Ten**

 _ **Coalescence**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Apologies for the delay, folks. As I mentioned before, I've got a new job and it's not so much the number of hours that are hindering my writing, so much as my scheduled shift. My current schedule should end within two weeks and I should have a much more comfortable shift after that. I'll talk more about my plans for this story at the end of the chapter.

 **grd:** The biker quote is from an AtS season 4 episode ( _Salvage_ ) where Faith remarks on the ease of getting back into slaying after her stay in prison. To be fair to Wesley in regards to his humor (or lack thereof), he did make a comment to her about her needing some "release."

* * *

#

Wesley sighed as he approached the door to the hotel room that his compatriots were occupying. It was easier, he supposed, to accept what he had seen by having the proof in front of him. Then again, perhaps facing aliens in battle won't be entirely surreal to young men and women who face demons. He inwardly shrugged, either way, this would surely change the way some of these people viewed the world.

The door opened before he had a chance to knock, Vi dragging him inside with a dagger uncomfortably close to his throat. Wesley had felt his throat sliced open once before; he felt no need to feel it slit again. Still, security measures had to be observed so he allowed Vi to sit him down in a chair facing Willow, who had an arrangement of items in front of him.

Willow nodded toward Kennedy, who pricked Wesley with a small knife and let the small droplets of blood fall into a small bowl. Wesley said nothing but looked on in interest as Willow began chanting softly, a small wind that had no source lifting the Wiccan's red hair as a soft glow emanated from the bowl. The same glow that was coming from the bowl was now coming from Wesley himself, albeit much less luminously. Willow studied him intently, looking for something that only she knew to look for. Finally, she nodded and closed her eyes. The breeze that had flowed around Willow stilled and the glow that had come from both Wesley and the bowl that contained his blood disappeared.

"Sorry Wes," Vi said, blushing.

Kennedy just pat his shoulder before helping him to his feet.

"It's quite alright, girls, I understand." Wesley took a moment to stretch and look around. On the other side of the room, apparently unconcerned with Wesley's presence, was Xander who was cleaning out some very impressive looking pistols. Beside him were a few assembled AR-15s, which were pretty much as good as you can get without going into military grade hardware. Wesley's eyebrows raised but he didn't comment.

Facing the three girls who were now staring at him, he sat down in the more comfortable chair in the room.

"Well?" Kennedy demanded.

Wesley caught the other girls' brief looks of surprise and remembered Buffy mentioning that Faith had becoming surprisingly close to Kennedy. Given their polar opposite backgrounds and attitudes, Wesley could well understand the surprise that this friendship had incurred.

"First and foremost," Wesley said softly, "Faith is well."

Xander moved and sat down next to Willow to hear of Wesley's findings.

"She has not been harmed or mistreated in any way that I can discern. I won't describe the details of the operation Faith has encountered, but I can tell you that they were, until our arrival, largely unaware of our world. In fact, there was only one person in the base that was aware of our existence and he was only there because he recognized Faith's name."

"So not Initiative?" Willow asked hopefully.

"They have had no dealings with the occult or supernatural, or if they have, they have been accidental and unrecognized as such," Wesley confirmed.

"But could they become a danger to us in the future?" Xander asked.

Wesley sighed. "I suppose they could, Xander, but from that viewpoint just about anyone could." He finished his statement with a pointed look towards Willow, who blushed. Kennedy glared at him. "The people I met seemed like smart, talented, individuals with the same drive to protect our world that we have. But their battlefield is not the same as ours; I don't believe there is much potential for them to become overly concerned with our existence."

Wesley idly rubbed at the scar on his neck. "I believe, so long as we remain cautious with our overtures, they can be trusted. Apparently the British government is aware of this organization, as Giles managed to convince the US military to give us a great deal of highly classified material."

"And so what about Faith?" Kennedy asked.

"Well..." Wesley began, "It seems that..."

* * *

 **June 17th, 2003**

Buffy and her closest friends sat uncomfortably in Angel's new, very fancy, office. To be fair, Angel and the members of the now defunct Angel Investigations looked just as disquieted at their new surroundings.

 _Perhaps 'helping the helpless' isn't quite the same when you're sitting on a chair that costs as much as a new car,_ Buffy thought sourly, _and_ _the leather is probably made out of babies or something._

"Well?" Dawn exclaimed impatiently.

Angel sighed and looked to Cordelia.

"Apparently," Cordelia said, in that tone of voice that had landed her the moniker 'Queen C', "Wesley has placed his stuffy British seal of approval on It."

Angel scowled at the mention of _It_. He wasn't alone in his displeasure; nobody wanted to be left out of a secret, especially the Scoobies or Angel's team. It, the secret Wesley and Faith were keeping from them. _It_ , the thing that had all of Buffy and Angel's team concerned. _It_ , the secret that Wesley wouldn't tell, no matter how much they cajoled or threatened. It was intolerable. It was inconceivable. When he had said this, he had heard Willow laughing on the other side of the phone, shouting, "I do not think that means what you think it means."

Willow still laughing in the background, Wesley had promised to tell them more about _It_ once they were back in L.A. and hung up.

"So, we wait for Wesley?" Dawn asked.

"We wait for English," Gunn said tiredly.

It was still something of a surprise to Buffy, that Angel's team had been so willing to stick up for Faith. Having heard the story about the Beast and Angelus, she understood why, but it still astonished her. It was sad, she thought, that these people had been willing to accept Faith even knowing her background, even knowing she had escaped from prison and yet the Scoobies hadn't. It made her think, it made her think hard, and she resolved that the next time she saw Faith, she'd give her a hug no matter how little Faith would appreciate it.

Buffy jumped slightly when she felt Cordelia patting her shoulder. "It'll be okay Buffy. We'll know more soon and hopefully she'll be back in all her leather-gloriousness soon."

Buffy wasn't quite sure how to take the strange, almost mischievous, knowing smile Cordelia was giving her, but she put it out of her mind as she thought about Faith, and hoped they'd see each other again soon. Her heart beat a little faster at the thought.

* * *

 **June 21st, 2003**

Faith sat on one side of the table. On the other side was General Hammond. On his sides were Paul Davis and Samantha Carter. Nothing had been said yet, they just looked at each other as they thought about all they'd learned. Faith shook herself. "So, what's the what, Generalissimo?"

Sam rolled her eyes and a corner of Paul's mouth lifted.

"Well, Faith, I think some of that will be up to you. Thor brought you hear for a reason. Partially out of his and the Nox's own curiosity regarding the Slayers, but also because he wanted you known to us," the General stopped speaking and turned a sealed envelope over in his hands, considering it.

Paul spoke up. "The fact is that we don't know a lot about your capabilities. Not just physically, but intellectually. We know that your education is far from complete or comprehensive and being the best fighter on the planet won't always save you when embroiled in our kind of fights."

Faith furrowed her brows. "I know I'm not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, Major. What are you talking about?"

"Faith," Sam began and paused. "Don't put yourself down like that, Faith. Even if you're not a fount of wisdom, Major Davis is right in that you haven't really had a chance to learn much of anything except survival."

General Hammond finally slid the envelope to Faith, who looked at it with confusion and suspicion before finally opening it. The others remained silent as Faith read the neatly typed letter that had been inside, watching as the Slayer's eyes grew wide.

Faith wasn't sure what to think, what to do, what to say. She finally looked at the General, with something akin to desperation. "What does this mean?" Faith asked hoarsely.

"What it means, Faith, is that you have another option that you can pursue, if you decide you're dissatisfied with your life here," Paul said with a slight smile.

"As the letter explained," Sam said, "This wouldn't be automatic. You will have to pass a series of academic and physical tests for us to go through with this, but...if you're willing to put in the work, perhaps it might be you in a uniform one day."

"As Major Carter said, Miss Lehane, if you're willing to accept this proposal, you'll have a great deal of work in front of you before you'll be allowed to walk through that gate. But if you do the work, and if you put in the effort, you're in."

 _Are you ready to be strong?_

Buffy's voice rang in her head as it always seemed to do when she had a decision to make. She could stay here, work with the Scoobies or with Angel. She looked at her surroundings, and thought about the Stargate, and alien worlds. School had never been her strong point, she'd have to work at it to be someone they'd consider accepting into the SGC.

She might be a Slayer, but that didn't mean the physical tests would always be a breeze. And training probably consists about more than just swinging a sword and firing a crossbow. Faith would have to rethink everything.

 _Are you ready to be strong?_

She couldn't wait to tell Buffy.

"What do you think, Faith?" Sam said with a smile. "Do you want this?"

 _Are you ready to be strong?_

"Yes."

 **The End**

 **(Or is it?)**

* * *

 **End Notes:** I hope someone got the _Fuffy_ overtures. If I continue, you better believe it that I'll expand on that. Throughout my writing, I've questioned whether I should continue writing this story as a series or whether I should end it as a short story. I believe I made it fairly clear that I'd like to continue my writing, making this story the beginning of a multi-part story. Unfortunately, I'm going to put that plan on hold. For now, I don't have enough time to write regularly and I don't want to promise something I can't deliver.

I've done my best in writing this story, in both my presentation of the characters of both fandoms as well as trying to combine those fandoms in some reasonable fashion. This story has been a greater challenge than either of my previous fics, it being a crossover felt like the greatest aspect of that challenge. I hope I managed to satisfy all my readers and that I'll be able to continue this in the future.

I'll be marking this story as complete and when I'm ready to continue, I'll mark it as In-Progress again. Before I make any additions, I plan on going through my story and making changes/edits/additions.


	11. Part II - Faith Under Fire

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Thor's Slayers  
** **~ Part** **II ~**

 **###**

 **Chapter One**

 _ **Faith Under Fire**_

* * *

 **Update: 12/4/16 -** Continuing to update story with occasional corrections and inserting dates for a timeline

* * *

#

 **Two Years Later...  
October 20th, 2005**

Faith slowly moved her head to peek around the tree, hoping to locate the other remaining member of her squad, or barring that, trying to locate enemy positions. Instead she jerked her head back just in time to avoid the hail of incoming fire. She heard the distinct _whizz_ of projectiles speeding through the air at high velocity. A velocity that she wasn't prepared to test her Slayer reflexes and speed against.

"Fuck," Faith muttered under her breath. In a slow but fluid movement, she lowered herself to a crouch and began a steady duck walk to another area that provided better cover, and perhaps a better vantage point as well.

She passed a body. A friend that was now sprawled out on the dirt and whose fatigues showed the telltale red splatters that gave proof to his fate. Roger Watts hadn't made it far after the initial ambush, and his body was proof that their attackers had been initially successful. But they had paid a hefty price for taking out her friends, she and Boyd had made sure of it. But now she and Boyd were separated and, if she was right, surrounded.

Faith kept moving; the slow measured pace of a duck walk that kept her low to the ground and gave less of a profile for would-be snipers to hit. There was another _whizzing_ noise that had her going prone in a flash. The grunt that followed that _whizz_ had come from someone else though, a nearby someone else. Somebody who, by the sound of that grunt, was now out-of-action.

A friend? The enemy? The enemy: that nebulous description that seemed to exemplify the fundamental difference between Slaying and...

A movement caught her eye.

Faith might be new to firearms and relatively new to fighting as part of a small disciplined unit, but she was still a Slayer. Her body reacted as it was now trained to do, with the speed, reflexes, and instincts of a Slayer to augment that reaction.

She rolled to the side, bringing her rifle to her shoulder even as she did so. The almost minuscule amount of force she applied to the trigger filled the air with her returning fire.

This time it was her projectiles that filled the air. Her munitions that made that now familiar noise which brought with it the potential for mayhem and destruction. This time, it was not her friend's body left in the dirt like so much refuse.

And that was what separated a Slayer from...whatever she was or was becoming. Slaying is personal, always about violence and death with the stake or blade in your hand. Slaying was feeling the flesh of your foes give beneath your strength, or being forced to endure the claws and fangs which belonged to the monsters which haunt humanity's nightmares. Slaying was magic and prophecy, about the "gift" bestowed by the Powers that Be. Even if she were now only one in hundreds...thousands of such girls, they were all, in some way, _the_ Slayer.

Now Faith was left pressing a trigger, a trigger that's squeeze had resulted in a body toppling from a sniper blind in the low branch of a tree perhaps 75 meters away. She couldn't even see the body, but she heard the _thump_ as flesh met earth. A combination of engineering and combustion were her strengths now, not mystical empowerment.

Before arriving in Sunnydale, the first time, she _had_ held a gun back in Southie, but had never fired one. That hadn't changed until Sam brought her to a shooting range for an impromptu lesson before she began any formal organized training.

As it turns out, her Slayer abilities had extended beyond the standard arsenal of a Slayer. A week after that lesson, she decided to have some of her new friends and acquaintances over at her new apartment. When Sam had mentioned Faith's skill, a challenge had been immediately issued by Jack.

To Sam's amusement, and General Hammond's mortification, Faith was able to demonstrate her skill with her usual class and efficiency.

The mortification that Hammond felt had been two-fold. One was that it took place on the Air Force Academy's shooting range where more than a few onlookers had been witness to Faith's demonstration. The second item of mortification, and Faith's demonstration of skill and class, was her ability to create a remarkably accurate picture of a man's genitalia with bullet holes.

Of course, what made it particularly satisfying, to Faith, Sam, and Janet at least, was Faith's second display of her finesse that had her emptying an entire clip with the Beretta M9 into the 'tip' of her earlier masterpiece, all without a missing a single shot at 20 meters.

There had been a collective wince and involuntary flinch in the attending male population.

Faith smiled at the memory but sobered when she remembered her current circumstances. The Slayer made her way into the leafy underbrush, taking great care to avoid snapping any branches that might betray her location. By her count, there should be five more enemy combatants in the area.

She would assume, cautiously so, that the unseen shots and the following grunt earlier had belonged to her last remaining squadmate. It had sounded like Boyd, and if it was him, than she was alone in the forest with five men who wanted to nail her. And not in the good kind of way.

She found a small area that was ringed with small boulders. A very sensible place to park oneself if they were on the defensive. It was a solid tactical decision that would give her a little time to plan her next move...but in the last two years, she hadn't changed _all_ that much.

Faith smiled then. A slow smile that crept up her face like the sun crept up the early morning sky. _No_ , she thought, _I'm not trapped here with_ them. _They're trapped here with_ me.

Faith crouched down, closed her eyes, and listened. She was motionless, scarcely even breathing as she _listened._

 _There!_

The Slayer opened her eyes and _moved_.

#

He walked as he been trained to do so, methodically and quietly. It wouldn't be long before they caught up with her. Only _she_ and one other, the CO of their squad, had been able to evade his men's carefully executed ambush. It had been costly, but taking out half of their team had made it worthwhile.

A quick hand signal had one of his men and single remaining woman under his command peeling from his flank to fade into the nearby foliage. Taking those positions would allow for maximum concealment and while providing a stage to offer a quick response to any sighting of _her._ Another hand signal had the third remaining soldier under his command moving towards a particularly tall tree fitted with a very well hidden blind. That left him and the final surviving man of his original three fire teams moving in the general direction of the last audible shots. They walked carefully, taking advantage of any cover that crossed their path while remaining watchful of their surroundings.

There was an explosive ' _crack_ ' that had him jerking his head towards the noise in response, only to see a large rock rolling down the nearby stone face with which it had collided.

His eyebrows rose and he crouched down, looking for the woman who was undoubtedly responsible for the obvious lure. He turned, preparing to issue orders to the man watching his six.

His man was gone.

No, not gone, he realized. He grimaced as he saw a hand, a man's hand, stretched out towards him, a supplication to him for aid. The large trunk of a tree obscured the rest of the man's body, but that single appendage in sight was covered in that unmistakable red substance that bespoke of the man's status.

He realized, numbly, that the thrown rock's impact had made hearing and tracking the discharge of her gun impossible. And she had dragged that man away without his having seen or heard anything. All in just a few seconds.

The hair on his neck rose as he realized that the quiet rumors about this...Faith must be even more accurate than he had thought possible.

Making a decision, he moved towards the thick ferns he'd sent his other two men to use as cover. It wasn't a reckless retreat, a headless rush to find safety, but a quick and careful walk that had him dropping between the two soldiers he'd send out just a minute or two before.

"Did you see where the fuck she-" The man's words were cut off as he let out an involuntary gasp.

The man on his left looked like he'd been rolled through mud before he'd been executed. Every single centimeter of exposed skin was covered with dirt and...other fluids. The woman on the right, however, almost looked just fine. But the red splatter that covered both her helmet and the ground nearby meant that somebody had managed to stalk close enough to shoot her in the back of the head, twice by his count, without her having been able to even raise a cry in warning.

A quick assessment of the situation made the events fairly clear to him. _She_ must have managed to stalk up to the duo. She double tapped the woman on the right before dragging the other man through the nearby wet patch of dirt, he now took note of, to keep him occupied. Occupied and silent. Obviously, _she_ had managed to wrestle a man nearly twice her size before finally ending it with a shot to the forehead.

The man's breathing became harsher as he doubled back, hoping to seek shelter under the watchful gaze of the man he'd sent to the sniper blind. This time, his movement was a little less cautious, a little more reckless. But he wasn't fleeing, he told himself, he was regrouping so as to neutralize the final threat on the field.

He still hadn't wondered why he himself had not yet been her prey, still thinking only of gathering his remaining man to assure himself of the man's safety and readiness to face the woman who had made the forest into her hunting ground.

He put a hand to his mouth and warbled their established greeting. He calmed himself and made ready to climb up the large pine that the sniper blind had been carefully concealed in.

He never started that trek though.

Instead, he had gone motionless upon his first sight at the closest branches of the tree. He stood there, stunned, mouth agape in patent disbelief. There was the man he'd assigned to the blind. Except he wasn't _in_ the blind or in any other kind of position one might describe as secure. No, secure was not tied up and hanging head first from a branch perhaps ten feet above the forest floor. His arms and legs had been tied tightly to his body and the rope, and god knows where _she_ managed to acquire _that_ , was looped around his feet Those looped feet were attached to the branch where he hung, swaying slightly as he squirmed.

His man was looking at him and was saying something, or shouting something judging by the volume. But the man had been gagged, his mouth stuffed with...

He squinted, trying to figure out what the man had been gagged with. It shouldn't have mattered but the gag was so incongruous to their woodland fatigues and forested surroundings. They were a bright red, almost shiny like satin.

His thoughts stopped.

His friend had been gagged by...panties. Faith's panties, he felt certain. His face went hot and he felt himself flush as he just stared in astonishment. A finger tapped his shoulder and he turned, still too stunned to react the way he should have.

A brunette, beautiful even through the mud encrusted clothes and the camouflage paint that covered her face, stood there with a feral grin and a rifle level with his chest.

Like him, she wore standard woodland combat fatigues, though she had chosen to wear a boonie hat as opposed to a cap or beret. Her smile hadn't abated at his perusal. In fact, that smile had somehow grown wider.

His eyes flicked involuntarily towards her hips as he remembered the red satin...

There was a familiar sound. There was an impact that surprised him enough that he fell back a step. A dumb realization came over him as he realized that he had dropped his weapon when he had seen the last man under his command gagged with...

Another impact.

He ran a hand up his chest and frowned when it came away red. Red like Faith's...

Impact.

"I'll keep doing this for as long as it takes, Staff Sergeant Richards," a husky feminine voice said with no small amount of amusement.

The world came roaring back. He had been shot, several times. Glancing upwards, he saw his squadmate, now also showing evidence of Faith's impressive shooting skills. And still gagged with...

Impact.

"Okay, okay!" he snapped.

"I guess that means we win," Faith said smugly, lowering her paintball gun. She gave the gun a fond pat; it had been a gift from Roger Watts that very much resembled the FN P90 that seemed to be all the rage for many of the SG teams. The gun was a promise, or the promise of a possibility that she, too, might one day hold such a weapon in that capacity. It was also an extremely effective paintball gun, as Staff Sergeant Richards and the men and women that had made up his team had learned over the last couple of hours.

The Air Force Staff Sergeant that Boyd had recommended for this 'play-date' grumbled.

"Go get Airman James down!" he ordered a nearby man, "and ungag him!"

"Why, you want a taste?"

John Richards went beet red and spluttered before a hand settled on his shoulder.

"Easy there, Dickie," Henry Boyd said with a grin. "Dickie, I don't believe you've actually met our Faith Lehane."

Faith winked at Richards before she turned to say something to the man she'd wrestled in the mud with.

"You, Watts, McLeod, and that she-demon just took out three fire teams," Richards complained sourly, "and even if one of those teams was comprised of cadets..."

Jessica McLeod finally made her way to her commanding officer's side. She had a towel and was trying to wipe dirt and red paint from her face. "Oh, get over it, Dickie, you still got half of us in that fucking ambush."

The Staff Sergeant managed to look somewhat mollified until Faith came back to the conversation among the gradually growing crowd of assembled USAF paintball enthusiasts.

"So dinner on you guys next week at O'Malley's, right?" Jessica McLeod asked, smiling.

There was a round of disgruntled acknowledgment as he and the 11 men and women on his team began to make their way out of the course.

"We should play paintball much more often," Faith said with a wistful tone.

"Where did that rope even come from?" A woman who had been taken out by Boyd early in the game asked with a look of something approaching awe in her face.

"Ah, well, y'know," Faith said, with a coy smile, "you never know when you need to tie a man up." She winked at the woman. "Or when you'd like someone to tie _you_ up, hmm?"

The other woman shook her head and laughed at that and walked away with several of her fellow cadets out of the range.

The man who'd been the recipient of both her applied knowledge of ropes and knots as well as her panties was blushing and wouldn't quite look at Faith or his Staff Sergeant in the eyes.

"I think you broke him," Roger Watts observed, waggling his eyebrows.

Faith smiled.

To Richards, that smile seemed far too feline, or possible shark-like. In his perusal of that smile, he was caught off guard when something soft, and somewhat damp, was placed into his hand. He opened his hand, ignoring the sniggers of Boyd and his team. His mouth went dry and he jerked his head upwards to see Faith already a dozen feet away and making her way to the course entrance.

His face flushed yet again as he stood there holding Faith's bright red, satin panties.

"Sorry, Dickie," Faith called out without bothering to turn around, "they're wet because of your airman, but if you still want that taste..."

Faith's peal of laughter echoed in the trees even after her figure had disappeared from sight.

"And that, Dickie, is Faith," Henry Boyd said in a serene voice, though his dancing eyes betrayed his solemn demeanor.

Roger and Jessica chuckled, shaking their heads at the Staff Sergeant's reaction. They understood; they had all had a 'Faith' moment at some point as they grew to know and befriend the woman that they might travel to other worlds with one day.

"Wow," Richards finally said.

"Wow," the others agreed in unison.

* * *

 **Lorca:** The contents of the letter have not yet been fully explained. But an invitation to be involved at some level can be inferred, the addition of this chapter make that somewhat obvious. As for the relationship... *shrug* I don't intend to make the story _about_ the relationship, but it may be a larger part of the story until that relationship has fleshed out.  
I have a rule of thumb about these kinds of things: Would I be embarrassed if my mother read this? Writing a story that includes a same sex pairing wouldn't phase her. Writing a story that _includes_ the development of a same sex pairing might get me a raised eyebrow. But writing a story _about_ a same sex pairing would get me the crossed arms and tapping foot of doom. It'll be a fine line and I hope that I stay on the right side that'll provide a better story for you.  
 **Sorentia:** I wouldn't expect for the story to go quite so dramatic as that. Keep in mind that I haven't yet fully explained how Faith will be interacting with the Stargate program. Plus, the two years that have passed since the initial meeting without there having been a major incident probably gives this particular military group the benefit of the doubt. At this point, I don't really plan on there being any conflict between the supernatural players and the Stargate program. You'll just have to wait and see who the next big bad is.

 **Author's Notes:** And I'm back! I'm back and I'm better than ever! My previous work schedule has ended and my new one affords me far more time to write. Indeed, the last few hours of my shifts are almost nothing _but_ free time. This chapter was the result of that free time. I'm going to do my best to post at least one chapter a week, but as always, a warning that sometimes it may not be possible. The story will be removed from it's completion status and moved back to In-progress. As previously decided, I intend to continue this saga in this same FanFiction entry, rather than creating a new story for a new part. Just a preference thing.

Just a heads up, but the first couple of chapters are likely to be long and are meant to present backstory and create a foundation for the next stage of Faith's journey. This story is still about Faith, but Buffy will be becoming a more central role in the story, though I'm still working out the details as to how.

I wasn't sure whether the whole Faith gagging a guy with her panties thing was a little much, but it seemed like the kind of outrageous thing she might do and I just ran with the idea.

I'm predicting that this second part of my story will be considerably longer than the first part and will delve into the recent events of many of the BtVS, AtS, and SG-1 characters in the following chapters. There will also be a discussion regarding Faith's evolution in the past two years along with details about the agreement she made at the end of the first part. One could expect that Faith's familiarity with a P90 might be obvious evidence of that. There's a fic on TtH called _"Life's Ending, Life's Beginning"_ by **becuzitswrong** that is mostly comprised of Buffy going through the Air Force Academy and learning all those Air Force Academy things. I absolutely love that story and I considered doing something similar here but I felt it wouldn't add enough to the overall story.

One of the directions I might lead this story will end up introducing the Stargate Atlantis universe. I'm still considering the idea and have nothing decided yet, but it could be an interesting way to take the story and might be useful to isolate the particular theater this story might develop in

Only one of the named characters in this chapter was made up (and I don't expect him to have any further role in the novel at this time). Henry Boyd, Roger Watts, and Jessica McLeod were all characters from a Stargate novel and possibly mentioned in the tv show itself. Very little is known about most of the other teams' personnel, so I thought SG-10 might be a nice home for Faith. Adding her to SG-1 didn't seem like a good ideal, not with SG-1 being occupied in various ways (which will be discussed in the next few chapters). At this moment, SG-10 knows that Faith is a potential candidate for their team and that she has some powerful backing, but don't know anything about her being the Slayer or the about the supernatural.

A brief blurb on something I mentioned earlier: As far as I know, there is no definitive answer as to how the Slayer lineage passes on. The common theories, from what I know, is that the lineage is directed by the Powers that Be. The other theory is that the power passes to a new recipient due to a combination of genetics (I.e. the Slayer lines) as well as more abstract and possibly random factors. I've always liked the PtB answer, but the existence of the Slayer lines, that the next Slayer could be (judging by history and excluding Buffy) predicted with a high degree of accuracy seems to destroy that notion. Nevertheless, I will include the latter theory while remaining firm in my preference for PtB involvement.

There will be further development of Faith and Buffy's not-quite relationship, though I haven't yet decided how I will do so and at what speed. But there will be definite progress towards that end.


	12. Of All the Gin Joints

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Two**

 _ **Of All the Gin Joints...**_

* * *

 **Chloe:** Good eye there, Chloe! As it turns out, SG-10 _was_ trapped on the edge of a black hole. However, five years after the events that left them in that quagmire, O'Neil and the rest of SG-1 had made it their mission to rescue them. SG-10's personnel were still alive, held in a near stasis because of the time dilation caused by the nearness of the black hole (yeah, some pretty weird science there). These events took place in the book, A Matter of Honor, which took place at some point in the seventh season of Stargate SG-1. To Boyd and his team, it had only been a few hours since being trapped so it had been quite a shock for him to come home and realize he'd missed five years of his daughter's early life.  
 **Sorentia:** Glad I'm not the only one to think so!  
 **HowlnMadHowie:** I honestly haven't decided how to address reactions to the existence of the supernatural or extraterrestrial from each of the two sides. I do not intend to add flashbacks, but likely an allusion or two. I do like to leave _something_ to the reader's imagination. As for the rest, you'll just have to see.

 **Author's Notes:** This is gonna be a long chapter, folks. A long chapter where not a whole lot actually happens. It will, however, provide a lot more details about what has been happening in the last couple of years for all the various BtVS and AtS characters, which is the reason I'm keeping it as one very long chapter as opposed to breaking it up. There will be occasional nods to Buffy season 8+ events, but I am not keeping the rest of the BtVS crowd following that cannon with any significant degree of accuracy. There won't be much Stargate activity yet, either. This chapter, beyond explaining more of what everyone's been up to, will also serve as part of the foundation for the coming story which is mostly: A) In what manner will Faith be involved with the SGC? and B) Buffy/Faith and C) How will B affect A? This chapter will have more to do with B, but also provide a starting point for C.

Since this chapter will be mostly about Fuffy, I'll be posting another chapter in just a few days. I've actually been able to write a lot while I'm at work and then putting it into the computer later. I was hoping to be writing about a chapter ahead of where I actually was, but I'm already close to being finished with chapter 4. Well anyways, here we go.

* * *

#

Faith locked the wood paneled door to her apartment before quickly descending the flight of stairs that led to the apartment's parking lot. She was running a wee bit late, but not enough to be overly concerned.

After the rousing game of paintball, she had driven home to her apartment to clean up before she went back out again to hit her favorite bar. She hadn't had a whole lot of time and in her desire to be on time had forgone any significant measures to appear fashionable and pretty herself up. Instead, she had donned another set of the BDUs that seemed to multiply in her closet. Most of her "civvie" clothes, as Boyd referred to them as, were either dirty or not entirely suitable for the kind of bar she was heading to. _Besides_ , she thought with a smirk, _I do love the reaction the uniform always makes._

Hopping into the gunmetal grey Subaru Outback she'd purchased six months ago, she quickly made her way out of the complex, hopping onto I-25 to make the quick journey to the Old Colorado City area.

Driving from her respectable apartment in a respectable part of town with her nice car she'd purchased with a scant 20,000 miles on it...it was a bit of a new experience for her. Never in her life had she believed she'd be ever living this well off. And she hadn't, not until she'd joined the Mayor's payroll.

The Mayor...

Even now, years after his death and all the general badness that was going on, she'd never be able to think of him as the evil snake monster. To her, Richard Wilkins III would always be 'Boss', the only man who had ever really given a damn about her at the time. But her current good fortune wasn't due to her service towards a man who could be called morally ambiguous at best and more often something closer to "evil snake-fuck". Instead, it was a result of the stipend she earned from the new Watcher's Council, one that she'd receive so long as she maintained vigilance over the local supernatural population, kept them in line, and stayed in contact. That stipend was supplemented by an allowance granted to her by the United States government as long as she was making active progress in her goal of becoming a member of the SGC. She wasn't rich, not even well-off, but she was comfortable and being on the government's payroll had some rockin' benefits.

As for her progress in becoming a member of the SGC...

It hadn't been easy. It had been fucking hard, more so than she'd ever expected. Who knew that the military bozos did more than shoot and look pretty in their uniforms?! She'd never given it a whole lot of thought, but that had sure changed when she'd been given a list of things she needed to know or be trained in before they'd even _consider_ the _possibility_ of _maybe_ letting her so much as touch the Stargate. Faith might be able to box like a champ' or knock a guy's head off with a kick, but her Slayer abilities only gave her so much of an edge with everything else she needed to know.

She knew the different ways of killing vampires, knew some of the ways to kill the nastier or rarer demons. But first aid? Survival training? Navigating using a map and compass? Detecting IDEs? She had found herself out of her depth and might have floundered completely if not for the encouragement of the members of SG-1 or from Buffy and Wesley.

Faith's hands tightened around the wheel at the memories thinking of Wesley always brought to the surface. It hadn't been long after they had reconciled, as best they could at least, before Angel had made his move to destroy the Circle of the Black Thorn. That move which had left Gunn bleeding out on the streets while Angel, Spike, and Illyria fought the army the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart had raised against them. While they'd managed to come out of the ordeal with the smurf to show for it, Illyria's appearance didn't help the stab of pain and guilt she felt learning of Wesley's death at the hands of Cyvus Vale.

Faith breathed out slowly. It had been a long two years, but it had been two years that had given her time to grow a little. Yeah, she was still the big bad Faith, but she was _more_ than that now, well a _bit_ more. She smirked, remembering the creative use of her panties from the paintball game. She gave an internal shrug as she finally parked her car outside the fairly nondescript looking bar. A more mature Faith, perhaps, but still Faith in the end.

It _had_ been a long two years but if all went well it should all pay off by the end of the month when she had a meeting planned with General Hammond and Major Paul Davis to determine her readiness through a battery of tests and assessments.

She was thinking far too much, she realized, and shook her head as if to clear it. It was time to think of other things. Hearing the music from inside, she nodded towards the frightened bouncer who was all too happy to let her in and be out of her way. She might be the Slayer and he might be a demon, but he should've learned by now that she was no threat to him, not here.

Walking past him, she walked into the newest, most popular, and only bar in Old Colorado City: Caritas _._

#

Silence descended upon the bar the moment she had passed through the red door that marked the entrance to the club. The new Caritas was just that, new. It hadn't attracted a huge following yet, partly due to the relatively sparse demon and vampire population, and partly because the Slayer was well-known as a frequent visitor. And now, that Slayer had walked in...wearing a military uniform. Word of the Initiative had gone out quick through the supernatural underground and as a consequence, the military was no longer seen as a non-threat made up of walking happy-meals.

"Hey sweetcheeks! You get dolled up just for little ol' me?"

And just like that, the music and conversation were back at their normal volume and intensity.

Faith smiled. When it came to Lorne, it was hard _not_ to smile. They'd become somewhat close since Lorne had left Los Angeles and decided to stick around with Faith. The Host had been at loose ends for some time after he'd killed Lindsey and hadn't particularly wanted to settle around any of the old Angel Investigations crowd, not after they'd asked him to kill for them. When everything went down in LA, it was Faith who'd reached out to him first, and she who invited him to join her in Colorado Springs.

No matter how sparse the demon population might be, where there were humans, there were demons, and they'd discovered the usefulness of having their own mini-Switzerland that came with both alcohol, karaoke, and a sanctuary spell.

"Hey gorgeous," Faith replied, stepping forward and giving the horned, green-skinned man a hug.

"Look at you, honey, all back from the war and everything," Lorne said, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in Faith's clothes.

"Nah, just paintball. Didn't want to be late. Is she here?" Faith asked, peering around at the various tables and booths in the dimly lit interior.

"Oh, honey," Lorne said, and took hold of Faith's shoulders and turned her around. "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

Faith turned around and smiled. "Hey, B, how's tricks?"

* * *

Buffy had been driving for over ten hours and was ready to be done with it. Figuring out how to get from St. Louis to Colorado Springs had been a cinch, what with it being nearly a straight shot and all. But she hadn't realized that it didn't matter how simple of a drive it was, ten hours of driving was still ten hours of driving. She had been spoiled by airplanes, she realized, and once again lamented at the tiny excuse for an airport that Colorado Springs boasted. Sure, she could have flown to Denver, but that was a lot of driving too, right? Might as well drive the whole way, right?

Buffy fumed remembered Dawn's look of disbelief. _Stupid driving_ , Buffy groused, _and stupid cops and stupid speeding tickets. I saved their lives, the whole world even, and they decided to give me a ticket just because I was driving a little over the speed limit._ In retrospect, maybe barreling down the highway at 95 miles per hour hadn't been the best idea. Thank god she was cute or she might've gotten more than just a speeding ticket, well, three speeding tickets anyhow. _Stupid Kansas cops with nothing better to do._

Buffy sighed and eased the pressure she'd been exerting on the complaining steering wheel. She winced at the slight indentations her hand had left. _Well there goes the deposit._ She pouted, _I_ _guess that's why Dawn told me to take a rental._

She drove past a large building that was adorned with the distinctive Olympic rings and relaxed. Faith had told her that when she drove past the Olympic Training Center she'd practically be on Caritas' doorstep within five minutes. She finally took a moment to fully appreciate her surroundings. The downtown area, such as it was, was pretty lame. Not a shopping mall in sight. No wonder demons had no inclination to hang around here. But to the west...to the west were those purple mountains that songs were written about. Capped with white snow, they were a stunning feature of the landscape even as the day began to wane. Definitely a plus in Colorado Springs' favor.

#

A few minutes later, she walked past the car she recognized as Faith's and approached the club that had a bright neon yellow sign displaying 'Caritas.' There was a single entrance to the club that was being watched by what she believed to be a Brachen demon. He was already looking somewhat pale, looking into the club with a worried look. He wore blue jeans and a denim jacket. _Ugh, Colorado._ However...

"Where did you get your cowboy boots?" she asked in a pleasant, definitely non-threatening, voice.

He jerked in surprise when her voice cut the quiet, the sort of quiet that seemed ushered in by the darkening sky. He had been pale before, but now he went full out green and sprouted blue spines as he stumbled back. _Called it_ , she thought smugly, _but maybe I need to work on my non-threaten-y voice._

"Slay-y-yer," he stammered and held up his two hands in the universal gesture of 'please don't hurt, kill, or maim me' and made sure to stay clear of the club's entrance by way of an invitation.

Buffy sighed, knowing that she'd have to ask someone else where those fabulous shoes could be found and gave the man a friendly nod and entered the club without another word. It wasn't aggression, she knew, merely an instinctive fear when faced with the boogieman of the demon world and so she took no umbrage at his suddenly inhuman appearance.

Even if she couldn't ask him where he got those cowboy boots, s _ometimes_ , she reflected, passing the sign that displayed the cover charge, _it's good to be the Slayer._

#

Buffy took a moment to get a first impression of Lorne's new club. It was fancy, showy but without that false glamour that made some clubs painfully garish. Red carpet, wooden stools and tables. A brass railing that lined the short ramp that led into the club. More brass in hanging lights and at the foot of the dark wooden bar. The club seemed distinctly "L" shaped, with Lorne's familiar karaoke stage at the end of the longest room. It felt warm, good, and the Sanctuary spell that she knew to be there meant it was also safe. It was no wonder that demons, humans, and Slayers alike found themselves here.

There were perhaps a dozen patrons at the moment, most of which were sitting at various corners of the room. She thought she saw a Devil and maybe an Ano-Movic demon, but was most distracted by the figure in front of her.

Her hair was shorter than before, Buffy noticed, just barely falling to her shoulders in loose brown curls. Faith wore a very military-y looking outfit and Buffy couldn't help the smirk at the image of Faith marching in formation while some Drill Sergeant yelled at her. But the smirk died when a smiling Faith was turned around by Lorne and Buffy returned the smile as she met the other girl's dark eyes.

Buffy frowned inwardly, feeling her feet move without her saying so, taking her closer to Faith. The frown turned into a shrug and then into a smile as the brunette's arms enfolded her. They held tightly, those arms, and Buffy's held just as tightly around Faith. Whatever else might happen, at that moment all was well.

* * *

Faith sighed into the embrace, enjoying the warm feeling that Buffy's presence always gave her. Well, when she wasn't going all "evil-Faith", as Willow called it.

They'd come a long way since Sunnydale, she and Buffy. They'd been allies at first, then rivals, and soon enemies. Then Faith had woken from her coma and done her absolute best to ruin Buffy's life. Eventually, and with no small effort on Angel's part, she'd found her way to prison by her own choice. That was probably the only decision she had made in years that she could honestly be proud of. She'd had a lot of time to think in that cell and one thought she'd often had was that there'd be no way in heaven that she'd ever have the chance to make it all up to Buffy and the rest of the Scoobies.

But, as it often seemed when it came to Buffy, she'd been wrong. Granted, it took the very real possibility of the end of the world to give her that chance, but she'd managed to make the most of it. After the First Evil had been defeated, Buffy and she hadn't really been able to define what they were to each other. There was too much pain, too much damage and betrayal that even her recent actions weren't quite enough to clear the slate. But they were no longer enemies and that, Faith knew, meant that the potential to be more than just backup might still exist.

It had been a long two years. Two years since Sunnydale and that time had helped heal some of the other wounds that their past held. While this might be Buffy's first trip to _her_ neck of the woods, they'd seen each other fairly often since Faith had first made her home in the Centennial State. Giles called for a group meeting once every three months at the new Watcher's Council headquarters in Scotland and Faith had enough time on her hands that she was normally able to make those trips.

Every time, in fact, except the time Teal'c and Roger Watts, fresh from his rescue with the rest of SG-10, had come to the conclusion that she was in dire need of survival training in a cold, high altitude environment and had decided that it was their expertise that was needed. Not that she was bitter or anything.

Those meetups in Scotland held the purpose of keeping track of the various groups that now made up the Council, of making sure people were made aware of any abnormalities within the supernatural community, of keeping track of the many new Potentials that were still springing up, and most importantly, providing an opportunity for them all to see each other and _know_ that they were 'okay'.

Faith, much to Major Davis and the rest of the DoD's relief, hadn't told everyone on the Watcher's Council about the Stargate program. Angel, all of the original Scoobies, Spike, Kenny, and Fred were the only ones who knew the exact details.

Faith had instantly decided the biggest, baddest witchy-witch in the world should get a heads up in case flying pyramids descended from the heavens. Of course, since Willow couldn't keep a secret to save her life, Faith had gone ahead and told Kennedy, who was still the significant other of their Red Witch. Dawn and Fred were both told because of each of their own personal knowledge and experiences with portals. Fred had corresponded with Carter for some time, in fact, and had been responsible for some major developments in the SGC's fundamental understanding of the Stargate's inner workings.

However, nobody was quite sure how to react when Illyria had come around after the events in LA or about her own knowledge of the Astria Porta and the Ancients. Illyria had been expressing a discomforting amount of interest in seeing the Stargate and Faith wasn't quite willing to open _that_ can of worms. Not that she could stop Illyria if the Old One actually tried.

Angel knew because he was Angel, and Faith would tell him the truth no matter what, because she owed him everything. His reaction, to nobody's surprise, was to brood on the matter.

As for Spike...well. The guy had underwent the agonizing process of getting himself a soul. He had then allowed himself to burn alive in order to close the Hellmouth. And when he was resurrected, he had continued to fight the good fight. Yeah, he'd earned some trust by that point. However his somewhat nonchalant response to the revelations that aliens had built the pyramids had been something of a letdown. His subsequent question towards Faith about what she thought they might taste like was less so.

Buffy's reaction had been odd, though. Not disbelief or astonishment. No, those green eyes had seen too much for that, but had held a sort of wistfulness that Faith had seen in her own eyes more than once.

Faith had borne witness to Buffy's slow withdrawal from everyone besides. She wasn't sure why Buffy was still receptive to _her_ of all people, but she wouldn't ask; Buffy would tell her if or when she was ready. Buffy's withdrawal, from what Faith could determine, stemmed from two issues. One was the desire to be more than just the Slayer. The ever growing population of trained Slayers all looked up to her, put her on a pedestal, and held her to an impossible standard.

Buffy was tired. Faith saw it every time they met, heard it in the blonde's voice every time they spoke.

Buffy wanted out.

The second reason was more obvious because, even if everyone else seemed to have forgotten, Buffy had been betrayed by the ones she held most dear at the tail end of their fight against the First. She'd forgiven them, of course she had, but she'd never forgotten that moment when her friends and family had told her to leave. She hid that pain well, so well that Faith thought only she, Spike, and perhaps Kennedy of all people really saw it.

Buffy's eyes caught hers and the blonde flinched at whatever she saw in Faith's gaze. Buffy made as if to step back but Faith tightened her arms around the blonde before she gradually released the other Slayer and gave her a warm smile.

"Hey Faith," Buffy said, her white teeth showing with her answering smile.

Faith felt more than a little pleased at the perusal Buffy gave her then; it was a long up and down affair that ended with a raised eyebrow and a corner of her mouth tilted up.

"Nice threads, Faith, looking more than a little butch, I think," she finally said.

Oh, Faith wouldn't let this one go. She tried to keep the innuendos down around Buffy, she really did, but with a line like that...

"B, when I go butch, babe you won't even be _able_ to think."

Buffy went a bright red and did a fair impression of a fish on dry land but Lorne's delighted laughter halted any possibility of delivering a retort.

Lorne looped his arms through both Faith and Buffy's and led them deeper into the club. "Come on, dolls! I haven't heard anything that might be charitably called talent from the locals yet, I want to hear a good tune from the two of you by the end of the night."

Buffy smiled, Faith's comment forgotten, and went up to her tip-toes to give Lorne a kiss on the cheek. "'kay Lorne. How about a sea breeze?"

Lorne sighed and pressed his hands to his heart. "A girl after my own heart. How about you, sweetie?"

Faith shrugged. "Guinness?"

"So stubbornly Irish," he said with an air of disappointment, "alright girls, I'll have your drinks in a moment."

#

Buffy took a sip of the sea breeze Lorne had given her and sighed in pleasure. Demon or no, man knew how to make a drink. Across from her, Faith was smiling at her.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Nothing, B, you just look...content." Faith regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. Buffy's look of satisfaction had disappeared, replaced with one of contemplation and melancholy.

"You're looking good, Faith."

Faith frowned at the non sequitur and shot a questioning look at Buffy.

"Faith, I think you might be one of the only ones who isn't afraid to call me out on my bullshit. You and I both know that I'm not...happy. I haven't been in a long, long time. I've been satisfied at times, but I don't feel the need to rehash things." Buffy tapped her finger on the wooden surface of their table in emphasis. "Now. Faith. You look good."

Faith let it go. For now. "I _am_ good, B. It won't be long now till I might have the go ahead to work at the mountain."

Buffy's lips thinned a bit. "I'm happy for you, but Illyria is getting...impatient."

Faith closed her eyes and banged her head on the table. "Even if we 'let' her come to the SGC, how the _fuck_ am I supposed to explain the presence of a more or less god to a group of soldiers who _fight_ self-proclaimed gods? And what do you think is gonna happen when she starts her 'muck beneath my feet' speech!?"

Buffy gave her a sympathetic look. "We...you, will have to do something about her eventually, Faith." Faith banged her head harder but stopped when a hand patted her shoulder. "We'll talk about it later, butch," Buffy said, smiling faintly.

Faith lifted her head and took a long drink of her beer before she let herself forget about Old Ones and Stargates.

#

"So how's the centaur?"

Buffy gave Faith a dirty look. "Dawn's fine, Faith. And please don't say stuff like that around her."

"Would I do that?" Faith asked with a look none would ever confuse with innocent.

Buffy glared at her. "She's doing fine. Almost done with her degree at Washington University. She isn't sure what to do after she earns her degree, though. There aren't exactly a whole lot of opportunities for linguists with a focus on dead languages."

Faith's eyebrows raised. "She tryin' to figure out if she wants to stay in the family biz?"

Buffy nodded an unhappy smile. "I'm finally learning to let her make her own decisions, but damnit..."

"And Spike? He still hanging around?"

Spike's appearance after his death had been an awkward affair for all parties concerned. Buffy had beaten the ever-living shit out of the blonde vampire upon finally learning of his survival after he'd been in Los Angeles for so long. Andrew had managed to escape with just a black eye for his role in keeping Spike's resurrection from reaching her ears but she had been furious at anyone who had kept it from her.

Spike...

There was a constant tension between Angel, Cordelia, Spike, and Buffy whenever they were in the same general vicinity. Angel and Buffy _were_ through, but that didn't stop Queen C's insecurity or Spike's irritation with 'the Poof'. But Spike wasn't ultimately sure of what he wanted. He had spent so much time pining after Buffy that he hadn't really realized he'd only been in love with the idea of Buffy.

So Spike had left.

He checked in now and then, occasionally helped out in Scotland or Cleveland, but most of his time throughout that first year had been spent on walkabout. He learned what it meant to just be him, a vampire with a soul without a Slayer to love or have watching over his back.

It had been good for him, indisputably so, and so his appearance on Dawn and Buffy's doorstep in St. Louis had been far less dramatic than it could have been. He was lonely and had no desire to hang around his sire or the Scoobies and had actually _asked_ Buffy if she'd mind if he stayed in town. Buffy had said yes.

Faith had been dubious upon hearing that, but Spike had managed to build a life of his own. One that included Buffy without revolving around her. Even more surprising had been the new object of his affection, the younger Summers sister. That had been all kinds of dramatic and awkward but it seemed that Spike's feelings were genuine, and not a desperate attempt to find a copy of Buffy. Dawn's crush from years before had become something more, making Buffy's presence in her younger sister's life increasingly unwelcome.

And so, Buffy was being pushed out again. Not intentionally, not unexpectedly, not unkindly, but inevitably.

Buffy tapped her finger on the table for a moment. "Yeah, he is. I think he...I think he might be...engaging...with Dawn."

Faith gave Buffy a confused look. "B...what do you mean engaging...with...?"

Buffy looked uncomfortable. "You know..."

Faith frowned for a moment before she began laughing. "Engaging like...doing the nasty? Bumping uglies? Knockin boots? Boinkin' like rabbits? Getting their freak on?"

Buffy _growled_ at her and kicked Faith's shin from under the table. To the younger Slayer's irritation, Faith's laughter endured her wrath.

Faith finally managed to calm down, doing her best to ignore Buffy's petulant look. Catching Lorne's eye, she sighed. "Alright, B, Lorne looks like he's ready to pop. Time to let that inner diva of yours out to play."

Buffy turned to see an impatient Lorne tapping his foot, nodding his head towards the empty stage.

"Do I have to go first?" Buffy whined.

"Yes." Faith's answer was implacable and resolute.

Buffy sighed and went up the steps that led to a microphone, a small screen nearby ready to provide the words for a designated song. Heaving a sigh, she made her selection.

#

Faith nodded along with Buffy's attempt to sing. A warrior, she might be. The Chosen One of the Powers that Be. The Slayer of vampires and the forces of darkness. But a singer, she was not. And Sheryl Crow, she most certainly was not. She winced again as Buffy hit another wrong note. "Soak Up the Sun" wasn't all that difficult a song, but Buffy was doing her best to beat it to a pulp and murder it.

The Angel of Mercy graced the bar with its presence at long last as Buffy sang the final verse to the song. Buffy walked back to Faith's table, cheeks pink as a few brave patrons clapped for the Slayer.

Faith gave her a long look. "Wow."

"Shut up, Faith."

"Just...wow."

Buffy kicked her shin again and pouted.

Faith had to admit, it was a lethal pout.

"Your turn," Buffy said with a smirk.

Faith shrugged, "Wicked." Without another word she made her way to the stage. Buffy should have known that a little singing wouldn't scare her. Hell, she was the girl who enjoyed dancing on table tops when she was _way_ underage.

 _Now, what to sing, what to sing,_ she pondered, scrolling down the list. She smiled.

#

 _"I kissed a girl and I liked it._ _The taste of her cherry chap stick..."_

She should have been expecting something like this, Buffy knew. But this...the song and Faith's hip movements and the looks the darker haired girl occasionally sent her made her face heat up. She had never been entirely armored against the girl, but this...

Buffy blushed again as Faith winked at her. It was Buffy, this time, who banged her head against the table. That, and try the best she could to ignore her own body's response to those swiveling hips and those heated looks she was the recipient of.

She looked up again, blushed, and looking everywhere else but the stage until the song finally ended. Buffy looked up to see Faith, somewhat flushed from her exertions flop into the chair opposite her.

However before either Slayer could say anything, Lorne dragged a chair to the table which he then took a seat in.

He wasn't looking like the world was about to end or like one of them was about to croak, which was of the good. But he wasn't smiling either. He looked worried and confused. "Alright dolls, what I got was...complicated to put it mildly. Remember, what I say isn't set in stone and they aren't guarantees; it is advice based purely on what I saw in your possible paths."

The two young women nodded.

Lorne turned towards Faith first. "Sweetcheeks, you're going on a trip. A long one and somewhere far from here. That part seems like a done deal. The Powers that Be aren't done with you just yet, and if you go there, you can count on there being slaying for you to do. I think you already know most of this, but I'm pretty sure you'll find something good if you continue on your current path." The anagogic demon paused and then winced. "I have a feeling that our Fred lookalike will be part of your path as well. Good luck with the Old One, sweetie."

Faith groaned.

Lorne placed a hand under Buffy's chin and lifted it so that they could meet each other's gaze. "You, Buffy-girl, don't have quite so clear cut a path. But you _do_ have a path, and like Faith, the Powers that Be aren't done with you either. You could have a future in Scotland or the Hellmouth or even St. Louis. You could have a future and be content. But I don't see you being happy in any of those cases."

Buffy's breath hitched. "Do you ever see me being happy?" she asked in a small voice.

Faith shifted her attention elsewhere, feeling like she was intruding and thus missed Lorne's next quiet words.

Lorne leaned down and said in a much quieter voice, "I think you already know, B. Time to try something new, honey, do something fabulous, something out of this world." With those last words of advice, Lorne offered her a wink before he sashayed towards another customer who had been waving to get his attention.

The two girls were quiet, lost in their own thoughts.

Faith jumped when she felt Buffy put a hand on her arm. "You ready to head out, Faith?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, you still stayin' at my place?"

"Still offering?"

"Yep."

"Yep it is, then."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** There are going to be a few lengthy Author's Notes sections in the chapters to come. Part of this will be explaining my thought process about moving the plot forward and some of it will be filling in details about the story that might not have been fully explained. If you didn't get the quote from Lorne or the chapter title, shame on you. The title alone should give you an idea of where things are heading. (Goa'uld are space-Nazis?)

Also, I am aware that Katy Perry's song, "I Kissed a Girl and I Liked it," wasn't written anywhere near this time. That song was released in 2008 whereas this story is taking place around 2005. So...tough, it worked too well here. Part I of this story took place in 2003 and matched Stargate Season 7 with Buffy Season 7 perfectly. This story takes place two years later, but only one year would have passed in Stargate cannon.

Character clarifications based on what I've written: Fred is dead, Illyria is very alive. Probably the biggest different is that Cordelia is alive, still a seer, and not she-bitch evil. Wesley was killed per canon and Gunn died in LA immediately after the Circle of the Black Thorn had been destroyed. The latter wasn't canon by way of Season 8, but it seemed like an inevitability at the series finale. I did made a brief reference to Janet Frasier last chapter. In the show, she was killed off in season 7, so the events in my story are not incompatible with that fact. I'm not sure it will matter a whole lot about whether I keep her around so I might leave her fate as open. The Scoobies/Slayers are in Scotland and Cleveland (I'm ignoring the other Hellmouths) which I believe is canon-ish. Dawn and Buffy in St. Louis however is very not-canon. I liked them there because it's almost directly between Colorado and Cleveland. Dawn attending WashingtonU gave a plausible reason for their being there. I have not yet stated exactly what Buffy and Spike were doing there. I may go into detail later, I may not.

Fuffy: I'm going to do my best to avoid making it the central pillar of my story. It's gonna be pretty involved in the early portion of Part II, but it'll taper off into more of a background element after it's been established. I've tentatively planned out that this will be the only chapter that centers exclusively on them and their relationship. I had thought about losing the romance, but I think Faith is such a sensual character that losing it altogether would've been awful. And Buffy? Well, as I've said, I always liked their dynamics.

A few things about my knowledge of Colorado Springs and why I made certain decisions with the setting and places of interest. I was, in fact, born and raised in Colorado Springs, the city that Cheyenne Mountain and NORAD overlook. "The Springs" is the second largest city in the state with over 400,000 inhabitants (making it the 40th largest city in the United States). Colorado Springs is pretty deceptive about its size though, the city sprawling outwards rather than upwards; downtown Colorado Springs is pretty laughable compared to any other major city's skyline.

The Air Force Academy, NORAD, Peterson Air Force Base, and Fort Carson are all within about 20 minutes of downtown, hence my occasional references to a very present, very visible military population. Truthfully, I didn't notice much of a military presence, Air Force or otherwise, when I was growing up. Some of that could just be due to the fact that I was young and as self-absorbed as any teenager, but looking back I just don't have much any memory of seeing service personnel. The Air Force presence, or lack thereof, is pretty easy to explain: the cadets at the Academy generally remained there (keep in mind that the Academy is the Air Force equivalent of West Point or the Naval Academy in Annapolis, it is a school and the cadets don't have a lot of freedom to carouse).

Peterson Air Force Base's active duty roster isn't all that large either, approximately a quarter that of Fort Carson. Still, I don't really remember seeing any soldiers from Fort Carson hanging around either, though given Colorado Spring's fairly nonexistent nightlife (the bar/club type, not the vampire/demon variety) it's somewhat understandable. I think what I'm trying to say is that, to my recollection, I'm taking liberties in making the military a much greater part of Colorado Springs than it really is.

Old Colorado City is a tiny section of Colorado Springs that spans just a few blocks. It was the first territorial capitol of the Colorado territory for all of about five days before it was moved to Denver. I liked the idea of moving Caritas to the area because of the old world feeling that sometimes pervades that section of town (think prospecting and mining). I thought it was a good spot because it was only a few minutes from downtown without being any closer to any of the big bad military boys. I know Lorne had a fascination and appreciation for bright lights, glitter, and 'showbiz' (all the things that Colorado Springs is most certainly _not_ ), but I liked bringing in Lorne as a way of keeping the world of BtVS involved in the story. At the end of AtS, it's pretty clear that Lorne is more or less done with the Angel Investigations crew, so perhaps a quieter place for him to be The Host would be a nice change of pace. That was my thought process, at least.


	13. Changes

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Three**

 _ **Changes**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Phew! That last chapter was quite the doozy. The first draft I wrote was about half the length of the final version of the chapter but I really wanted to fit in as many details and as much background on the BtVS/AtS crowd as I could. There were some gaps, I acknowledge, and I'll do my best to slowly fill them in as I continue. I suppose what I was aiming for was to put out that info-dump so I could avoid periodic narratives in the middle of other chapters to explain all of the minutia of the last two years. As it turns out, that chapter was the single longest chapter I've ever written on this website by almost 1500 words. Yay? It might also please you to know that most of these first chapters will be much longer than the Part I chapters.

So again, to reiterate my plans and also to keep myself on track. These initial chapters will be very much about Faith and Buffy: about the last two years, about their future, about their evolving relationship. For those of you who aren't a big fan of that relationship, again this should be a primary story element only in the early stages of this part of the story. I also said before that I believe this part will be much longer than the first, and I meant it, especially at the pace I'm currently taking the story. However, that pace _will_ change in the next chapter or two as the plot begins to develop. This chapter will include some of the details about the previous two years from the Stargate side of things. The slight alteration of the timeline will obviously make certain events a little more flexible for my story. If Faith's interactions with SG-1 or the rest of the SGC aren't very clear by the end of the chapter, I'll try to include a more detailed layout in the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter.

A quick note: my choice of vehicles for Faith wasn't all that deliberate. I'd told myself that she wasn't getting a mom car/van or a truck or some tiny ass sports car. The Subaru Outback is listed as one of, if not the most popular vehicles in Colorado. That was pretty much my only reasoning there.

* * *

#

Faith led Buffy into her apartment, closing the door softly behind Buffy. Faith didn't say anything, giving the blonde a chance to evaluate her domicile, feeling unexpectedly nervous at the other Slayer's slow perusal of her surroundings. Posters of music groups, a beer cap collection along with more than a few weapons decorated the walls of her home. To an experienced eye, the very sharp edge of the various knives, swords, dirks, and axes made their status as weapons extremely questionable, though no questions had ever been asked. The living room featured a linen couch along with two back leather chairs, all of which faced a very large flat-screen TV, the latter of which had been the result of one of her few splurges. A small workstation with her laptop and a small printer had also made itself home in that room.

With a well-stocked wet bar that helped divide the kitchen area from the living room, Roger Watts had jokingly said it was one of the closest things to a man cave that he'd ever seen in person, including Jessica McLeod's own bachelorette pad. Faith had noticed that Watts never mentioned this when he, McLeod, and occasionally Boyd and his family came over to watch the Broncos or Avalanche game on the TV, a TV which boasted a better picture than any of theirs. Yeah, the TV had been worth it.

Seeing Buffy smile slightly as she continued her examination, Faith gave the other Slayer a small nudge and a questioning look.

"It's just..." Buffy seemed to search for the right words. "Normal. I mean, the Mayor gave you a really nice apartment..." Buffy winced at the memory of the Mayor and his gift to Faith. It was something the Scoobies _should_ have done for Faith before things went up that proverbial creek without so much as a paddle. "...but you made that into your 'crib' and this isn't a crib, Faith. This is a home," she finished.

Faith took in the other girl's words and nodded a little shakily. She might have that large TV and the wet bar, but gone were the game consoles and piles of games, the pantry full of junk food, the six-packs of beer, all of the evidence that indicated that it was inhabited by a teenager, not a woman. Well, she'd known she'd grown up a bit and here was just more proof of that fact. Almost more important than that self-recognition was the acknowledgment from Buffy she'd received.

Buffy finally moved forward and carried one of the large black suitcases from the Outback into the living room and set it behind the stone grey linen couch. That large suitcase seemed as if it was almost as big as Buffy herself and Faith fought a smile.

"Jeez B, what did you bring with you, your shoe collection?" she teased.

"No," Buffy said somewhat absently, "this is mostly clothes and weapons. I still need to go back out and get my shoes."

Faith stared at her and was quiet for long enough that Buffy finally looked up and caught Faith's expression. "What? You never know when you might need a different pair of heels! And stupid swords and crossbows take up _way_ too much room. Why do they call them _short_ swords, anyways!?"

Faith was unable to stop the next words from leaving her mouth. "Buffy, they're _short_ swords for non-midgets."

Buffy glared at her. "I know where you live now, Faith, watch it."

Faith grinned unrepentantly.

Buffy sighed and flopped down on the couch, groaning as she sunk into the comfortable piece of furniture. "I may never move from this spot again. That drive _sucked._ "

Faith hopped onto the couch next to her, making Buffy yelp in surprise and punch the brunette's leg in retribution. Faith shrugged it off and turned on the TV but kept it at a low volume, a distraction rather than an actual focus for their attention. "You want to talk about it?"

"About what?" Buffy hedged.

"About St. Louis? Spike and Dawn? Whatever Lorne told you? Take your pick."

Buffy's shoulders drooped. "No."

"Alright," Faith said easily, and reached for the remote to turn up the TV's volume.

"Yes."

Faith rolled her eyes and sat back. "Speak, Slayer, and I will listen."

#

 **Ten minutes later...**

"I mean, I'm not jealous or anything but why _him_?" Buffy said with a grimace. "I mean, I can finally be around him without him looking at me like the only thing he wants in the world are for my legs to be wrapped around him. And now it's Dawn he wants, which is _just_ as uncomfortable!" After a moment, the blonde blushed at her own words.

Faith, however, grimaced at Buffy's words. "Maybe, but from what I've heard, Dawn has been crushin' on that vamp since before Glory. Crushes usually go away, but if that crush suddenly becomes receptive, well it's not _too_ surprising, is it?"

"No," Buffy acknowledged, "but..."

"But they want to be together, and you looming in the background ain't helpin'."

"I'm not looming! I don't loom!" Buffy argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Buffy, you don't have to be a regular sized person to loom over someone else." Faith winced at the solid punch Buffy delivered to her thigh for the remark. "You being there, no matter how much you try to disappear around them, is a reminder of things neither of them want to be reminded of. No girl wants to have their man's ex hanging around, and no man wants their ex around when they're bangin' that ex's little sister."

"Faith!" Buffy's eyes had gone wide in disbelief and her mouth had dropped open.

"Sorry, B, it's true. I figure that's the reason Dawn wants to live on her own, right?"

Buffy nodded unhappily.

"You said it yourself earlier: time to let the niblet make her own decisions," Faith advised, intentionally using Spike's own endearment for Dawn. "God, and since when did I become Dr. fuckin' Phil?!"

Buffy chuckled. "Face it Faith, we all know you've been through a lot, seen a lot, more than any of us probably know other than Angel. You also have a bit of a reputation when it comes to...sex, so you're looking pretty attractive as our own mini life coach. And no one wants to talk to Angel or Spike about sex and Giles...ew."

"B, just because I'm a fan of riding a young strapping lad as much as I am of going down on a girl does not make me an expert on 'interpersonal relationships'."

Buffy blushed and gave Faith a look of disbelief. "I can't believe you just said that!"

"Which part, eating a girl out or the bit about relationships?"

Buffy went even redder and didn't deign to answer Faith.

Faith decided to answer even if Buffy wouldn't rise to the bait. "Well, B, you know I've been taking a lot of classes here. It's not all about firearms and explosives, ya know? When we're discussing the snakes, discussing psychology is a big part of the whole false god thing. Interpersonal relationships are important to understand-"

Faith winced again when Buffy gave a hard punch to her thigh in the same exact spot as before.

"So what are we gonna do now?" Buffy asked when her face returned its normal color.

"I don't know, B. How long did you plan on crashin' here, anyways?"

Buffy's features gained something of a lost look, uncomfortable, sad, and maybe even a little helpless. "I don't know, until you get tired of me?"

The joke fell flat. "B, you're far too much fun for me to ever get tired of you." Faith was quiet for a moment, watching Buffy fidget in the silence. "Dawn's already had a chat with you about moving out, huh?"

Buffy nodded.

Faith sighed. "Fuck. Need some time to get your head straight?"

The blonde nodded again.

Faith nodded and stood up, looking at Buffy until green eyes met hers. "Alright then, chica, here's the plan. Tonight we're gettin' in our jammies and watchin' a comedy. I'm thinking Underworld. Tomorrow I'm taking you to meet some of my new pals. After that, we'll just have to see."

Buffy had smirked at the mention of Underworld and perked up at the notion of meeting some of the members of the mysterious non-Initiative-y military group that Faith had sort of discovered with a little help from Thor. "Am I gonna get to meet the famous Jack O'Neill?"

Faith's good mood dimmed at that. "No, not Jack. Jack is sort of...comatose. He got a major info-dump popped into his brain and it was apparently killing him. I didn't get many details other then that they'd put him into stasis while they try to find a way to fix him."

Buffy looked disappointed and Faith knew why. Faith had definitely been upselling her favorite local silver fox and she had been telling Buffy that she and Jack were likely to get on like a house on fire.

"No, B, instead we're gonna meet with a few folks that have been stuck on the edge of a black hole for the last five years. Then, I'm taking you shopping."

"Marry me," Buffy demanded and didn't appear to regret those words at all. Shopping was serious business, after all.

Faith just laughed at that. "Now get those jammies on, Blondie, and I'll take care of the movie. And just so you know, pajamas and I usually aren't a thing, but for your delicate sensibilities, I'll deal."

#

 **October 21st, 2005**

Buffy woke up.

It was dark, almost black if not for the faint dim light emitted by the TV. There was nothing on that TV anymore, their movie having long since ended. She was under an extremely soft red blanket that she dimly recalled Faith covering her with around the time she'd started falling asleep. She should probably have felt disoriented or uncomfortable, but she didn't. Not even when she felt a hand that belonged to Faith curled around her hip and felt the girl's warm breath teasing the small hairs at the nape of her neck.

There was a moment, a long moment where she nearly gave into her knee-jerk reaction. Scrambling away, expressing righteous anger, and assigning blame. It was a long moment where she considered doing all of that. But this wasn't some scheme of Faith's. They'd watched Underworld, laughed at it and slowly gave into their bodies' demand for sleep.

Buffy distinctly remembered Faith getting up to go to her own bed just as she remembered her pulling Faith back onto the couch. The couch where they, in their slumber, had gradually curled around one another. Most of all, she remembered what Lorne had said.

With her knowledge of the Stargate, she didn't have to be a genius to figure out that Faith going on a long trip and somewhere far from here probably didn't allude to an extended vacation in Rio. Based on what Faith had told her, the suggestion that the trip would be an extended one was unusual. She made note of it as something to ask Faith about if she decided to pursue that path, given that it implied leaving Dawn, the Scoobies, and everyone else behind for _some_ length of time.

And then there was what Lorne had said to _her_. She wasn't entirely oblivious when it came to Faith, not in the past and not now. But back then there had been too...much going on. Angel, Giles and the Cruciamentum, Gwendolyn Post, Wesley...just too much that was a daily distraction that made it easy to avoid thinking about hard things. That's not even counting the avalanche of bad that was sparked by Finch's death at the hands of Faith. It wasn't long after that, that Buffy genuinely wanted to kill the Dark Slayer, had wanted to hurt her and make her pay for the terrible things she had done.

But she hadn't been oblivious. If she hadn't understood or felt receptive of Faith's feelings for her, she _had_ known of them. Even in the worst times of those dark days those feelings had been in the open for Buffy, buried in venom, anger, and hurt but still there regardless.

 _Give us a kiss..._

From what Lorne had seen, her best bet in being happy, not merely content, was with Faith and whatever journey the Dark Slayer had ahead of her. Unlike _then_ , now there was no conflict with Angel, Spike, or Drusilla. No betrayal from Post or Giles. Not even a big bad in sight. And now Buffy felt confident that the feelings Faith had held for her years ago hadn't gone away. Unlike _then_ , maybe Buffy _did_ understand them now. And maybe...

She stiffened, feeling Faith's hand begin to move upwards from her waist. Faith mumbled something unintelligible as her hand moved under her tank top to rest on her bare stomach. When the hand stayed there, Buffy managed to relax and slowly closed her eyes.

And maybe Buffy didn't just understand Faith's feelings now, but returned them as well. Strangely the thought didn't bother her all that much. Buffy fell asleep just moments later.

* * *

"Major Boyd?"

Major Henry Boyd looked up from the stack of old mission reports that he'd been catching up on to see SG-1's famed linguist and archaeologist standing over his table in the mess hall. "Doctor Jackson, how can I help you?"

"Call me Daniel, please."

"Alright Daniel, then call me Henry. I think helping to rescue me and mine from a black hole deserves some familiarity."

"Fair enough," Daniel said with a smile, "and don't think I ever forget that you helped get us all back from the Kinahhi." But the smile disappeared and he looked uncomfortable standing there in his black shirt and green tactical pants. "I know that you and your team are close with Faith Lehane; in fact I believe I heard something in the hallway just now about panties and paintball?"

Boyd grinned.

"Anyway, I was hoping that you'd ask her to stay away from the SGC for a short time. I don't have the time to get outside the complex right now and I'm under a bit of a microscope."

Boyd frowned. He didn't know why Faith's status at Cheyenne Mountain was so ambiguous or why her clearance level was as high as his and there were moments like this that reminded him of that lack of understanding. Then again, with the change of perspective gained by spending five years trapped on the event horizon of a black hole, perhaps Faith's undefined role at the SGC wasn't all that peculiar. But why would Dr. Jackson want Faith to away...

"The System Lords?"

Dr. Jackson nodded. "It would be best if they had no knowledge of her."

He was careful in how he'd phrased that, Boyd noticed, and decided to cast a line. "You mean they might be interested in our own resident six million dollar woman? One whose performance don't seem to be hampered by the lack of those six million dollar parts?"

Jackson gave him a sharp look. "What has she told you?"

That line had certainly caught _something,_ but he wasn't sure what. Faith would tell him if she wanted but there was definitely something to be told, though he'd had his suspicions practically since the day they'd been introduced by General Hammond. "Nothing Dr. Jackson, but I'm not blind. That whole "Run faster! Jump higher! Hit harder!" thing isn't all that subtle, especially whenever she's feeling competitive. Would the System Lords really be _that_ interested in her in the midst of the talks?"

Jackson appeared thoughtful. "Hard to say, truthfully. I doubt they'd pull anything while they're here or even in the near future. The System Lords have a lot on their plates to deal with, but they also have long memories and at some point they'd investigate her. But it's not just Faith we want to protect, Henry, it's..." The archaeologist searched for the right words. "It's also about protecting who and what she represents."

"You know Jackson, you could be _more_ cryptic if you really, _really_ tried," Boyd said sourly.

The archaeologist gave him an apologetic look. "It's Faith's story-"

Boyd held up a hand. "I know, I know, Daniel," Boyd assured him. "My minions and I are meeting her and a friend of hers at Garden of the Gods for a picnic and a rousing game of horseshoes. I'll make sure to take a moment to talk to her about the Goa'uld equivalent of the three stooges and to make herself scarce from Cheyenne Mountain."

Daniel smiled at that. "I'd appreciate it," Daniel said seriously. "Also..." The archaeologist sat down in the unoccupied seat across from Boyd and spoke quietly. "Weir doesn't know anything about Faith either and it would be best if it stayed that way."

Boyd leaned back and gave Daniel a steady look. "Keeping something from your CO rarely ends well, Jackson."

"Good thing she has no rank to pull then, Major."

 _That_ was splitting hairs, and they both knew it. Boyd looked at Daniel then, a long searching look. Whatever the archaeologist knew about Faith, Daniel didn't want others to find out. The rumors of her first appearance at the base, her occasional slip that revealed reflexes and strength far beyond human normal, whatever secret she had... "Did Colonel O'Neill or General Hammond know about her?"

"They both knew everything."

"There's always some quiet chatter about Faith, Daniel, she's a hard person to forget. Case in point: panties and paintball. I can't promise that Weir won't learn about Faith, but Weir won't hear it from me," Boyd said quietly.

Jackson nodded his thanks and stood up. He was turned to leave when he stopped and gave Boyd a confused look. "You're going to play _horseshoes?_ "

Boyd grimaced. Heather was _not_ happy with him. It was more proof that the woman who had still called him husband after being MIA for five years was an absolute saint. "Horseshoes, Daniel. Horseshoes with large amounts of alcohol and a new drinking game she wants us to play. She left a message earlier at my house to let me know that beer was for pussies and we'll be playing for shots. Heather made sure I got the message."

Daniel couldn't help the loud laugh that escaped him. "That sounds more like her. Just make sure you talk to her _before_ she drinks you under the table."

Boyd gave the man a rude gesture before he returned to his reading.

* * *

 **October 15th, 2005**

Sam settled into the other chair at the front of the Tel'tak and exchanged a look with Teal'c. They both wanted O'Neill back, for different reasons perhaps, but they shared the same need to have Jack back where he belonged. There had been nothing on Earth that could have healed him and so they were trying a different avenue.

Sam had gone so far as to contact Willow Rosenberg, whom Faith had suggested she contact to see if magic might have an answer for Jack's condition. Magic was still hard to for her to deal with; just acknowledging its existence almost felt like a betrayal of everything she'd ever strove for. But it was Jack and so she'd contacted the young witch.

Sam hadn't seen whatever Willow had seen or done, but evidently the vial of Jack's blood she'd produced had been enough for Willow to determine that her efforts would be wasted. The witch, whom both Faith and Fred had implied was one of, if not _the_ most power magic user on the planet, had said that O'Neill's mind was fractured...fragmented. Willow, in her somewhat awkward and charming way, had suggested that he needed a good defrag. Sam had _almost_ smiled at that.

The mind was a delicate place, one that could be easily damaged if tampered with or abused and Rosenberg had said that it would take not only her level of power but also a degree of control that was far beyond her ken.

And now Teal'c and she were in hyperspace en route to Hala in order to make contact with the Asgard. If there was any specials that might be both willing _and_ able to help, it was the Asgard. The advanced species held Jack in high regard, especially Thor. If they were lucky, it would be the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet who they encountered.

After several failed attempts to converse with Teal'c, she sat back and did her best to relax.

* * *

 **October 18th, 2005**

Dr. Elizabeth Weir sighed and massaged her temples. For a race that liked to play as gods, the Goa'uld could be annoyingly childish and petty at times. Daniel Jackson, no matter how much he'd rather be with his teammates searching for a cure for Colonel O'Neill, had done an admirable job at handling their System Lord visitors. It wasn't just Yu and the others who were at the forefront of her mind, however.

No, it was all of the other nations of _this_ world who were helping contribute to her growing headache. Respected diplomat she might be, but handling a large group of nations who wanted a piece of the pie that was the Stargate program was trying her patience. At least Jackson only had three egotistical maniacs with delusions of godhood to deal with.

Catching up on Stargate Command's mission debriefs, action reports, and all the various documentation that was this program's written history wasn't all that simple either. She went over it, not only to understand it for her own benefit as the new leader of the Stargate program, but also to figure out a way to present the program in a light that didn't make it look like it had been a series of disasters and calamities from which we were always rescued at the last minute. It was difficult because, from what she'd learned, that is exactly what it appeared to be. But it hadn't been gainless, that was indisputable.

Earth's alliance with the Asgard and the growing arsenal, and _understanding_ of said arsenal, were heavy weights on the United States' side when it came to the ongoing debate about the program's operations and management. Even the alliance with the Tok'ra, such as it was, was a clear benefit that the SGC had produced.

Elizabeth was feeling increasingly certain that her position was a temporary one, a very temporary one. That was okay, her appointment to the command of the Stargate program might have been a political maneuver of Kinsey's but that didn't mean she didn't have a job to do. Whatever the United States was working on with the rest of the world was big. Just a few days ago she'd been told that her predecessor was likely to head whatever new program they were preparing, an agency that would be closely associated with the Stargate program. What she was doing now was important, not just for her benefit or for whoever would follow her but also for this future organization that might benefit from what she doing.

She straightened and opened the next folder. By the time Elizabeth had finished reading, she was shaking her head and almost laughing. A time loop on P4X-639. That this sort of report could be considered "business as usual" said a lot about the program and the people who believed in it. So maybe she was okay with handing the SGC over to someone else, but she couldn't imagine going back to her old life as a diplomat after this.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I came very close to bumping the story up to an 'M' rating from some of the blunt comments and slightly suggestive material made this chapter but I toned down the word choice and tried to keep it T+ friendly. However, I feel like that a possible rating change is becoming inevitable as the romance (such as it may be) and the violence (which will be increasing) increases in volume and in intensity. If that rating changes though, I want it to be worth it and not for some off the cuff repartee.

I had considered elaborating on Buffy's job in St. Louis and making it something that was related to the military, read Air Force, read SGC but I really wanted to make it clear that the SGC and the BtVS side of things, though aware of each other, have more or less stayed separate. I thought the idea of Fred interacting with the SGC was perfect because...hello scientist studying portals?

The Garden of the Gods is a large public park that is between the Air Force Academy and Cheyenne Mountain.

If anyone is a fan of Anne Bishop, they might have caught a familiar line in this chapter from her _Others_ series.


	14. Supermassive Black Hole

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Four**

 _ **Supermassive Black Hole**_

* * *

 **Nedy Rahn:** I think I went to Cave of the Winds once (and oh my god I can't even believe I remember that) when I was a wee lad. You were right about the National Guard unit but something you said got me thinking. You mentioned Army units within Stargate Command and I can't for the life of me remember there being any actual Army personnel there. I just remember them referring to the redshirts as "Airman" with the occasional "Technical Sergeant." The local Air Force base (Peterson AFB next to the Colorado Springs Airport) boasts the 21st Space Wing but I figured the SGC was bringing in personnel only after vetting them one at a time (like on a submarine for the navy). Please someone correct me if I'm wrong about the Army bit.  
 **Guest #1:** My comment regarding "self-proclaimed gods" was directed towards the Goa'uld. As for Illyria... Her status as a god is debatable in my mind. Back then, she was a multi-dimensional being capable of altering time and communicating with the local greenery. Godlike powers, no doubt. So even if one is willing to accept that Illyria _was_ a god, is she a god _now?_ It's a pretty good question without a firm answer. She now has no followers or worshipers, she has but a fragment of her former strength, and pretty much all the things that made her godlike are gone other than her ego, (I.e. remember her fight with Hamilton?) and she doesn't even have her original form. Any firm answer will depend on what a god truly is, and that's something that humanity has been working on for itself for a long, _long_ , time.  
My original comment was directed towards the fact that Illyria has a habit of referring to herself as a God-King. Whether or not she is a god was superfluous to my overall meaning; it was the fact that the SGC was, even at that time, fighting aliens who called themselves Gods. From the SGC's point of view, I don't think its hard to see them drawing the parallels there whether they were accurate or not. And I just wrote way more than I intended to, but it was a comment that had me thinking.  
 **Guest #2:** Truthfully, I have no idea. I really wish I could add an additional fandom to it. Since the story started with SG1 and has endured to this point and beyond, I'll probably keep it as part of the SG-1 fandom tag even if the story evolves outside of that. Haven't given it too much thought, honestly.

 **Author's Notes:** Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I'm releasing this chapter a little earlier cause I've been writing a whole lot lately and I already have a couple chapters just about ready to pop after this one.

I'm going to be playing hell with SG canon here. Some of this chapter will include dialog that is straight from season 8, but that is mostly to serve as a foundation for when I take it all to crazy town. Also, HowlnMadHowie mentioned before that I hadn't introduced or really spoke of Xander at all. Part of it is because I've never really liked his character while the other part is that I really just forgot all about him. At some point he'll come around.

* * *

#

 **October 22nd, 2005**

Samantha Carter was worried. That wasn't exactly a new thing; she'd been worried ever since she'd watched Jack enter that stasis pod. But she was more worried about the looming black hole that had taken the place of Hala's sun. Yeah, the worrying dial had gone straight to 11.

Teal'c's reaction, the bastard, had been a slight widening of the eyes and an urgent, urgent for Teal'c anyway, "we're experiencing the effects of an extremely powerful gravitational force."

With that incredibly unhelpful and obvious conclusion, Teal'c had then revealed that both the hyperspace generator as well as the sublight engines had failed. They had been getting sucked into the black hole, slowly but inevitably, and would continue to do so unless they were able to generate enough power to the engines.

Diverting power from the shields had helped the Tel'tak finally find the power needed to escape the black hole, only for the weakened shields to subsequently fail. Moments later there had been a hole breech.

Sam remembered looking behind her and seeing not the rear hull of the ship, but shattered remnants of the Tel'tak's stern and the maw of the black hole instead. Teal'c had just reached for her hand when there had been a bright flash.

Sam stumbled into Teal'c both quickly righting themselves as they looked at their unfamiliar surroundings.

Their confusion became understanding when they heard a familiar and very welcome voice. "Greetings!"

"Thor," Sam said in a breathy voice, still shaken by her exposure to the vacuum of space.

#

"The Replicators are destroyed then?" Sam asked, torn between disbelief and hope. The full destruction of the Asgard's most dangerous enemy would have consequences on a galactic level.

"To the best of our knowledge, they are indeed destroyed," Thor confirmed. "The time dilation field was only a temporary measure. We knew the time it would take for the replicator-humans to reach the machine would translate to less than two years outside the field. Therefore a more permanent solution was devised."

"So you collapsed the sun?" Sam inferred.

"By artificially increasing its gravitation field, yes," Thor affirmed.

Sam's mind raced with the implications of possessing such technology. She couldn't help the momentary geek-out reaction; it was who she was. "That's...pretty cool."

"The Replicators appeared to have adapted to the field and were preparing to escape the black hole just before your arrival. Their attempt was utilizing an unknown technology however their ships ultimately failed to escape the gravitational pull of the black hole.

"They're strategy was not entirely unsuccessful, however. Aegir of the _Valhalla_ reported that a single ship had managed to escape the system and was likely en route to Orilla, the new planet from which we're attempting to rebuild our civilization. Aegir was able to destroy the Replicator ship the moment it exited hyperspace and the ship's fragments don't appear to have been protected against atmospheric reentry.

"It is impossible to say for certain, Major Carter, but yes, we believe the Replicators to be destroyed."

 _If there was an Asgard facial expression that indicated triumph_ , Sam thought as she looked at the Asgard Supreme Commander, _then it would look like this."_

"It _is_ good to see you again Major Carter, Teal'c. I am sorry I did not reach you sooner, I was not expecting you."

"Your timing is impeccable," Teal'c assured the Asgard.

"We were here hoping to ask for your assistance—," Carter began, but stopped when Thor raised a hand.

"Major Carter, though the Replicators _may_ have been destroyed, they were still able to cause a great deal of damage to my people. We will help you in your fight against the Goa'uld, but much of my people's efforts will be spent on rebuilding our civilization. But know that, even with our efforts to rebuild, the Asgard's assistance to the Tau'ri is likely to be more reliable than it has been in the past."

Sam looked at Teal'c, unsure of how to phrase what they needed.

Teal'c stepped forward. "Thor, your aid will always be welcome to the Tau'ri, however we have come here not on their behalf, but on behalf of Colonel O'Neill."

Thor's hand movements over his ship's console stilled and he seemed to straighten slightly. "What is it that Colonel O'Neill requires?"

"He's...sick. Though, it's not a disease," Sam clarified, "more like a side effect caused by interfacing with Ancient technology."

Thor tilted his head and blinked.

Sam sighed. Sometimes the Asgard's lack of understand of human social niceties could be grating. Sam elaborated for him. "Stargate Command sent several teams, SG-1 among them, to a planet we believed to have held a Repository of Knowledge left by the Ancients. We _were_ able to find the repository but Anubis's men were right behind us. We were forced to destroy the repository to prevent it from falling into his hands, but before it was destroyed, Jack managed to have the whole repository downloaded into his brain."

"The knowledge that gave us our recent victory over Anubis was the knowledge that is slowly killing Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c added.

"After Anubis was destroyed, he put himself into an Ancient stasis pod until we could find a way to fix him. There _has_ to be a way!" Sam insisted.

Thor was silent for a time, occasionally blinking or tilting his head in thought. "There may be a way to save Colonel O'Neill, however I cannot promise success."

"Anything you can do, Thor, would be appreciated," Sam said in a heartfelt tone.

"The Asgard are in debt to Colonel O'Neill and the Tau'ri, Major Carter; this is a chance to repay a small part of it." Thor moved his hand over several crystals and Sam felt the spaceship beneath her begin to stir.

"The last time we had time to converse with one another, I was preoccupied with O'Neill's clone and apprehending Loki. The ongoing conflict with the Replicators meant that I had little time to inquire about the Slayer, Faith Lehane, and whether there were further interactions with her."

Sam frowned. "It's been two years since you...introduced us, Thor, a lot has happened."

Thor seemed pleased. "Then your association is ongoing?"

Sam smiled for the first time that day as she thought of the young brunette that had been inserted into their lives. "Faith is a very interesting character."

"Her loyalty to her friends is as impressive as her ferocity as a warrior," Teal'c agreed.

"I have met and interacted with two Slayers in my lifetime," Thor said, "though only one ever spoke to me, I feel sure that Slayers are fierce in everything they do. Slayers die young and so they seem to live as much as they can in the time they have."

Sam blinked. That was surprisingly insightful for Thor, for most humans even. "You said you've met two Slayers but only one spoke to you; what happened when you met the other Slayer?"

"She believed me to be something I am not. She attempted to fulfill her purpose, Major Carter, and came very close to succeeding."

Teal'c raised a brow at that.

"We have some time before we arrive, I would like to hear more about your time with her."

She didn't know why Thor was so interested in Faith or the Slayers, but she was willing to bet a pretty penny that Faith would be getting a visit from her 'besty' in the near future.

* * *

The God-King listened.

The muck about her irritated her with their mockery and ignorance. They had no true understanding of the world around them, limited by the capabilities of their minds and bodies. Yet here she stood amongst them because she had nowhere else to go after the destruction of the LA branch of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart and had nothing else to do. The Slayers may have been preferable to the even less impressive muck that infested this world, but that meant little in the scheme of things. Their mockery should have been a killing offense. Indeed, normally she might have ripped their spines from their fragile bodies and danced upon their entrails. Instead, she _listened_.

It was so close she almost grasped it. She lost it again.

She closed her eyes briefly in frustration. She hated this weak existence she clung to. She hated this place, this world that was nothing compared to the worlds she'd visited and the cities she'd built as God-King in the many dimensions she'd inhabited.

She had lost so much when her fool of a Qwa'ha Xahn had coaxed her essence into the shell she now inhabited. This pathetic form of a human did not suit her at all and her weakness grated on her endlessly. She had lost even more when Wesley had stripped most of her powers with the Mutari generator. But sometimes when she was still, when she was quiet and _listened_ , she could almost hear...

"Why is she staring at the ficus?"

"Shut up, Rowena!"

"She's been staring at the ficus for _three_ hours!"

"Rowena, Leah, we have a major vamp next in Oban to clear out!"

Angel came around the corner and took in the scene. Two freaked out looking Slayers and an ex-God-King motionless and staring at the local flora.

"Wanna go do some violence, Illyria?" he asked, ignoring the intense glares the junior Slayers sent his way.

Illyria didn't respond.

Great, she was in one of _those_ moods.

"Come on girls, I've got some tricks to teach you," Angel said, waggling his eyebrows and tapping the sword at his hip. The girls actually _squealed_ and darted towards him in delight, God-King forgotten. Angel inwardly rolled his eyes. _Slayers._

#

Illyria ignored them all, hoping to hear the Song she'd not heard in so long.

 _There!_

She had it, it was...it was...

She lost it.

She hated it here. There were few things that made her existence remotely bearable. The brooding one and the bleached one who had both managed to rise above the cesspool that was their kind were enough to keep her interested to some extent, but there were few such muck that had her respect.

"What's up with the smurf?" another voice called out.

She hated it here.

* * *

 **October 22nd, 2005**

"Buffy, I'd like you to meet Major Henry Boyd, Captain Roger Watts, and Lieutenant Jessica McLeod."

"Boyd, minions, this is Buffy Summers." Faith paused. "Watts, if you intend to keep your limbs intact, I would swallow that laugh."

Roger was struggling.

"Henry Boyd stepped forward and extended a hand, "any friend of Faith's is a friend of ours. Pleased to meet you, Buffy, call me Henry."

Roger coughed and received an elbow from McLeod.

The brunette woman of SG-10 smiled at Buffy and waved. "What he said. Call me Jessica, good to meet you."

Roger finally held out his own hand. "Hello..." he coughed and croaked, "Buffy."

Buffy sighed when the man finally failed holding in his laughter. "You get this one free, Roger Watts. But laugh at my name again and I will shove my arm up your ass and work your mouth like a puppet."

Watts paled slightly at her tone and the fierce look in her eyes. "Alright, sorry B...Buffy. It _is_ good to meet you, though." The man paused for a second. "You know, you're pretty scary for your siz-"

Buffy interrupted with a glare. "That applies to comments about my height, too."

Jessica grinned. "You, I like."

Buffy smiled brightly then. "So, where we goin'?"

They were currently parked in the Visitors Center's parking lot at the Garden of the Gods. They had an array of items to carry with them. Among them was a cooler full of "definitely not alcohol, officer" courtesy of Watts. Buffy liked him better when the absence of beer was revealed. Henry's long-suffering wife had sent Henry with some prepared food along with a few packs of hot dogs and buns. Buffy was ready to get a move on.

"We're gonna hump it to the park and set it up at one of the picnic areas. They have some standing grills we can use for the dogs," Henry stated.

"Hump what?" Buffy asked.

The question had been asked someone absently so it took a few seconds for Buffy to realize everyone had stopped to stare at her.

Faith sighed. That shade of red on Buffy's face really was quite appealing. "Alright team, let's go hump."

Boyd gave Buffy a sympathetic smile as the others snickered.

#

It wasn't all that long of a walk, maybe a mile and even that was mostly on a paved road. The dirt paths didn't really start until you were well and truly in the Garden of the Gods park. But even though it wasn't a long walk and it was a cool 65 degrees out, it was still a walk carrying a lot of gear. Charcoal, booze, food, the horseshoe equipment, no it wasn't an easy walk.

But Henry Boyd and his team were military and they'd trained for this sort of thing. Walking about with a lot of heavy gear was business as usual for them. And Faith was...

Faith was whatever she was that allowed her to carry a 45 pound cooler with one hand. 45 lbs wasn't a completely ridiculous weight to carry around, but for her to carry it with one hand and not even break a sweat?

Henry was pretty sure Faith didn't realize she was even doing it while she, Buffy, and Jessica continued their animated discussion. The discussion had started with Jessica talking about some science theory that _no one_ understood but had somehow evolved into them discussing, loudly, their personal favorite bladed weapons. While the discussion itself raised a lot of questions about both Faith and Buffy, questions which Boyd felt certain Jessica was filing away for later, it was the cooler that had his attention.

It hadn't been intentional or some test he'd cooked up, Faith had simply grabbed the wrong cooler when she came back from the bathroom at the Visitor Center. At his side, Roger caught his eye and gave a surreptitious nod towards Faith and tapped the bag he carried. It wasn't just him then. His attention was diverted again when Faith asked Buffy to hold it while she got a drink out.

And Buffy held it. With one hand.

The exchange happened in a few brief seconds and he might've missed the significance of it had he not been watching and thinking about it at that very moment.

Whatever Faith was, Buffy was one too.

* * *

Faith absentmindedly chewed on the potato salad Heather had made. Boyd was a damn lucky man, she reflected, and he knew it. A laugh got her attention and she looked over to see Buffy showing Jessica some of the finer techniques of choking a man out. These techniques were tested on Watts, of course. Faith smiled, yeah Watts would be on her shit list for a while. Faith's smile softened. Then again, she was living proof of how forgiving Buffy could be; Watts would be in the clear soon enough.

"You like her an awful lot don't you, Faith?" Henry asked in a quiet voice.

Faith nearly jumped out of her skin as her thoughts were interrupted.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. It's not often that I manage to do that."

Boyd was a good man, but he wasn't stupid and Faith knew she wasn't exactly the most subtle person. He'd noticed things, enough things that his eyes held questions whenever they met hers. But he didn't ask and Faith liked him better for it. She didn't want to lie to him, but Boyd was a pretty religious guy. She didn't want the responsibility of shattering his preconceptions about the universe. He would suffer from the discovery of her world and she didn't think he was the type who'd recover, so the questions that lingered in his hazel eyes went unanswered.

"Well?" Boyd prompted.

"Yeah, sorry. What was that?" Faith asked coming back to the present.

"The blonde over there who looks like she's preparing to turn Watts into a human pretzel. You care for her. I've never seen that smile on your face before, not even in the morning after a particularly good lay. It's the kind of smile I get when I think about Heather and Lucy."

Faith gave Boyd a level look. "I don't kno-"

"Bullshit," Boyd declared.

"Fuck, Henry, leave it alone. She and I have a lot of history and most of it isn't good. I know what I want, but her? When it comes to Buffy and relationships..." Faith shrugged.

Boyd nodded. Then he put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, there's something I need to talk to you about for a moment."

Faith shot him a questioning look but followed his lead. Faith caught Buffy's eye and mouthed "BE RIGHT BACK" and received a thumbs up in return.

Faith followed Boyd up a small trail that ended with them on a small rise that overlooked their temporary campsite from perhaps 50 feet away.

"What gives, Boyd?"

"Daniel Jackson approached me at the SGC today and asked me to speak with you." Boyd gave her a meaningful look. "We have visitors at the SGC right now and he said it would be unwise to attract their attention. He asked that you stay away from Cheyenne Mountain until those visitors are gone."

"The visitors...Goa'uld?" Faith asked, smile tight.

"Several System Lords who are attempting to broker a truce with Earth," Boyd confirmed.

"Yeah right," Faith muttered. "Daniel's babysitting the snakes? What about Sam and the Great Haired One?"

Henry smiled. It was hard to tell with Teal'c, but he was pretty sure the man was irritated with Faith's new moniker for him. "Weir gave them authorization to look for outside help for Colonel O'Neill."

"Really?" Faith perked up, "Thor?"

 _That_ was interesting. Boyd hadn't been aware that Faith had even known of the Asgard, let alone Thor. At least some of the rumors were true then. "Okay, I'm obligated to ask this, feel free not to answer. Are you the result of experimentation conducted by Loki?" Boyd asked wincing even as he asked.

Both of Faith's eyebrows flew up at that. It had been the closest he'd come to outright asking about her abilities, but that conclusion... "How much and who with?" she asked, mouth curling into a smile.

"Watts, Jake Bosworth, and Jennifer Hailey. One Benjamin," Henry admitted with a guilty look.

"Hailey should've known better," Faith said with a disappointed shake of her head. "I want 25%."

"Deal." Boyd nodded and began the trek back to the others.

"Seriously, an experimental of Loki's?" Faith asked incredulously, "what the fuck?"

Major Henry Boyd laughed.

#

"So extend your leg," Jessica murmured, "aim at the joint on the side of the knee."

"Yeah, but watch your leg or you'll hyperextend it,"Buffy said, maneuvering Jessica's leg into a slightly different position. "Don't telegraph and you don't need to put your whole body behind it. Pull it off correctly and you'll be able to attack or defend yourself immediately after the follow through."

"Yeah, I think I see now. Alright Roger, hold still." Jessica smiled.

"I hate you both, daughters of Satan," Watts said in an unhappy tone.

Buffy gave him a bright smile. "Tell me I'm short again, I dare you."

Roger opened his mouth to respond but a loud laugh caught the group's attention.

Buffy looked over her shoulder to see Faith walking at Henry Boyd's side. It was the latter of the two who was laughing while the brunette at his side shook her head in disgust over something. Buffy let Roger go but not before issuing another warning in a low voice, "One more time, Watts, and my arm and your mouth..."

"I get it, I get it," Rogers exclaimed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"So," Jessica said loudly, "we got the grub, we got the booze, it's your game Faith, where are the horseshoes?"

Faith smiled a wicked smile. "Oh girly, don't get your panties in a bunch. You're in for a wild night."

The members of SG-10 collectively paused as they reconsidered their current course of action. The Stargate Command personnel that held the privilege of being Faith Lehane's friend had all gone through what Faith called a "wild night" at some point. There was a danger to life, limb, and dignity to any who participated. Dignity was often the victim when it came to such events.

Buffy, or "the little person" as Roger had unfortunately named her, took a shot glass from Faith and downed it in unison with Faith. Faith gave them that wicked smile again. "Well you gonna make us poor civvies drink alone?"

And so the night began.

#

"I like them," Buffy commented, a very slight slur as the only evidence of the night's activities. "You seem to be doing well here, Faith. With everything, I mean."

Faith herself had been pretty tolerant of the stuff even before she became a Slayer, but she was feeling the buzz too. Faith looked up from what she'd been doing. "I _am_ doing well, B, never been any better in my life."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. It's been hard, don't get me wrong but the stuff they've been teaching me...to be honest I'm feeling a little pride for the first time in a long while," Faith said seriously. "Not just the fun shit like guns and blowing crap up, but the little things like first aid, survival training, and using a map and compass. I've even been learning another language. Never thought I'd be doing crap like that."

Buffy watched the other Slayer as she talked and thanked the Powers or whoever else that Faith had been brought to this place. "Pride looks good on you, F." Buffy swirled the nearly empty bottle of Sailor Jerry around. It really _did_ mix well with cream soda. She peered at Faith, "what are you even doing?"

Faith smiled and continued tapping on the cell phone. "I'm texting Heather to let her know that Boyd is gonna be tied up for a while and that I'll send her pictures."

"Who's Heather? And pictures of what?" Buffy asked, perplexed.

"Heather is his wife and-"

"Wife! I thought you said he's been in a black hole for five years!"

"They were married _before_ he was trapped on the _edge_ of a black hole," Faith corrected.

"Damn, she stayed with him after that whole time?"

"Yeah, with a five year old to take care of on top."

Buffy whistled. Well, sort of, Buffy's ability to whistle had clearly been affected by the alcohol. "Wait, what pictures?"

Faith put the phone down and reached for her pack. She rooted through it for a moment before she answered Buffy's question by way of the objects in her hand.

Buffy smiled and finished the last of her tasty, alcohol, not-beer beverage and uncapped the sharpie Faith had given her. "Not that I'm complaining...but isn't this a little juvenile?"

Faith shrugged.

"Fair enough," Buffy said, "this has been fun, Faith, but don't think I've forgotten about you taking me shopping."

"Wouldn't think of it, B," Faith assured her and began her artistic masterpiece using the canvas of Lieutenant Jessica McLeod's face.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So the little back and forth timing from the last chapter has matched up as of this chapter. Yes, the chapter title was inspired by the content as well as the song by Muse. The arm and mouth quote was from The Other Guys. This chapter is mostly catch-up, getting the SGC people to their starting positions and all. Things start picking up pretty quick from here.

The Garden of the Gods is a really cool place, I actually lived about 5 minutes from it. The sandstone formations are pretty legit, and I thought it'd be a nice place to play horseshoes. *shrug*


	15. Out with the Old, In with the New

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Five**

 _ **Out with the Old, In with the New**_

* * *

 **HowlinMadHowie:** It has not been explicitly stated who knows about Faith and the supernatural world from the military side of things. In the few first chapters of this story, it was stated that at least _some_ people in the military or at the pentagon _were_ aware. But a more definitive answer has not been given. Obviously, all of SG-1 knows along with General Hammond given that they were there for her debut. Other then that, again, that is currently unknown. It would be safe bet, however, to suggest that Faith would want to keep it as quiet as possible. I have tried to make SG-10 look important in Faith's new life, and I want to continue that, but even they don't know exactly what makes Faith tick. Everyone who was in that room when Faith appeared knows that there are _many_ Slayers out there, remember that was part of the reason Thor brought Faith to the SGC in the first place.  
I stated at the very beginning of that chapter in my author's notes that I'd be playing hell with SG canon. I was trying to decide what to do with the Replicators, Sam, and the Fifth and ultimately just decided to can it. That whole Replicators aspect of Jack's recovery would do nothing for this story and I wanted to move it along. The Replicators were eventually destroyed, I just made it happen faster. In the chapter I stated that a ship had managed to escape but was destroyed by Aegir, it can be assumed that the Fifth was on that ship. I don't particularly care for the idea of Replicators in the story. There's just not a whole for the BtVS crowd to work with there.  
 **Syphon01:** Actually, the Tel'tak bit was completely based on Stargate's canon, I didn't alter that part of the story one bit. Blame the SGC writers! As for Henry Boyd's story, there was never any explanation given. In the book, there was a real quick reunion scene that was observed by O'Neill, but nothing more. So...*shrug*

 **Author's Notes:** Alright fellas, there will be slight variations between scenes in my story taken from the TV episodes. This could be due to my own error or because of alterations made to suit my story. Just something to keep in mind. **Note: If you see any continuity errors within my story, such as which characters were aware of what, _please_ tell me so I can adjust my story accordingly!**

I think my chapter releases will be at the current pace of once every few days rather than weeks. At this point, I have enough time at work where I'm effectively free that I'm able to put down a lot of words on paper to transcribe onto the computer later. I mean, right now I'm releasing chapter five but I'm putting the finishing touches on chapter _eight_. So yeah, frequent updates yay!

This chapter is going to be heavier on the Stargate side of things, pretty much the entire first half of the story. The second half will be more Buffy and Faith. I know that we've had a _lot_ of Faith and Buffy, but even the BtVS aspect will be pretty involved with the Stargate side of things. Again, this chapter is laying down more foundation for the future as well as developing Fuffy.

On the note of Fuffy. There is a line of conversation in this chapter that I agonized over whether I should include or not. It's a pretty explicit reference and doesn't really do much for the story but it just seems so...Faith. I decided to run with it. Also, I'm a guy.

I'll say it now and I'll say it again later. I'm trying, really, really hard to keep it fun and maybe occasionally sappy. This is _not_ going to be a love story. I've repeated this several times, I know, but I'm saying it again because the last bit of this chapter will be heavy on the sappy side of things.

As always, I encourage you to review the story and submit your ideas. I try my best to make this a fun story to read but sometimes I can go off track. Having people tell me what they like/don't like or suggest ideas or improvements is a really simple way for me to improve the story quality

* * *

#

 **October 22nd, 2005**

"Those stupid, arrogant, egotistical..." Elizabeth Weir almost screamed in frustration. The negotiations had been tedious and slow. More annoying was the revelation that they had been a complete sham, a facade generated in order to observe the capabilities of the human weapon which had destroyed Anubis and his armada. She should have known, she really should have. She braced both hands on the desk, taking slow breaths while she studied the smooth brown wood of the desk.

She had honestly believed that they had been getting somewhere, honestly believed that her skills would truly accomplish something with their System Lord visitors. But they hadn't. She hadn't gone in blind, hadn't expected the best out of them, but their duplicity was still hard to swallow.

"Tough breaks on the snakes, kid."

The voice startled Weir enough that she flinched and stepped back in a hurry, looking for the source of that voice that should not, could not be here. She hadn't been so lost in her thoughts that she wouldn't have heard the door to the office open and close. Looking around, she almost missed the man leaning against one of the walls of the office not five feet from her. He wore a brown suit suit over a gold and black patterned collared shirt. The ensemble was completed by a brown fedora resting on his head. He was a pale man, average height and weight, with short dark hair. But the most remarkable thing about the man was that he was in her office at all.

She darted forward and took the phone from its cradle, ready to call base security to report a possible breach. Her heart pounded in her chest even as he stepped back with his hands raised. Before she pressed any buttons, she managed to calm herself down slightly and met his eyes, giving him a long steady look. "Who are you?" she asked coldly.

The man stood up slightly, straightened his suit, and tipped his fedora towards her. "You can call me Whistler."

* * *

Sam watched as both Daniel and the stasis pod that held Jack were beamed aboard Thor's ship that now orbited Earth. It wasn't long ago that Sam would be hard-pressed to tear herself away from the sight of the cradle of humanity. Now she couldn't tear her eyes away from the Ancient pod.

 _Please work,_ she thought desperately.

"Hey guys!" Daniel said brightly. "Don't worry, I wasn't in the middle of anything important like telling several System Lords off. So, whats up?" Daniel Jackson with a nod towards Jack's dormant form.

"Thor believes there might be a way to save Jack. Oh, and it looks like the Asgard were able to destroy the Replicators," Sam said, unable to stop smiling now that Jack was here and the news of the Replicator's demise had truly sank in.

Daniel looked stunned. "Really? How?"

Thor waved a hand over his console which produced an image of Hala. Or what was once Hala. In its stead was the immense black hole which had both doomed the planet and possibly saved the Asgard.

Teal'c added his hello to Daniel. "The Asgard collapsed Hala's sun to destroy the Replicators trapped there."

"That's...pretty cool," the archaeologist stated.

"I know right?" Sam agreed.

Teal'c remained stoic, though he followed Sam until all three members of SG-1 stood over their incapacitated leader.

"Can you help him?" Daniel asked Thor quietly.

"I do not know Daniel Jackson, but I will attempt to do so," Thor answered. "I will attempt to interface my ship with Colonel O'Neill's mind. This will hopefully allow both communication as well as a way to fully evaluate and cure his condition. One moment."

#

"He is not well," Thor observed.

"I told you," Daniel replied.

"The process of interfacing his mind is complex."

 _"Hello...testing...testing...1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2, testing..hello! Is this thing on?"_

"Jack?" Daniel asked.

"O'Neill, can you hear us?" Thor asked on the heel of Daniel's own question.

 _"Hey! Hey guys. What's going on?"_

Sam closed her eyes at the sound of Jack's voice. "Hey Jack," she whispered.

"Your mind has been interfaced with the _Daniel Jackson_." Thor answered.

 _"What?"_ Jack asked?

"What?" Daniel parroted.

Sam smiled but it was Teal'c who replied. "The name of Thor's ship is _Daniel Jackson."_

"All the information in the ship's computer is available to you," Thor announced.

 _"Ah, right. Here we go. This is cool. I can do pretty much anything I want, can't I?"_

Sam rolled her eyes as the lights on the ship began flicking on and off until Thor finally caught O'Neill's attention.

"If you wish you may appear to us as a holog-" Thor began but cut off as a hologram of Jack appeared.

 _"Hey."_

"You okay?"

 _"Its a little weird, but yeah...okay,"_ Jack said.

"At least you're not speaking Ancient," Daniel observed

 _"There's_ _that,"_ Jack agreed.

"Actually, the computer is translating."

There was a collective wince.

Thor spent some time looking over the data he was receiving, occasionally asking questions to either Jack or the others.

Several hour later, Sam watched a crimson light play along Jack's skin within the pod. Sam held her breath while Daniel and Teal'c remained tense, watching to see if Jack would recover.

It wasn't long before Jack showed signs of waking before he gradually sat up, rubbing his head with a pained expression.

"Jack?" Sam asked.

Jack looked up. "Hey Sam." Looking to the side at the former Jaffa, Jack gave him a questioning look, "Teal'c, what's with the hair?"

Teal'c grimaced.

Sam had to hide a smile. She couldn't wait until Jack and Faith got in the same room to discuss Teal'c's new "do."

"O'Neill?" Thor prompted.

"Thor? You got aspirin?"

"You should feel better momentarily, and your memory will slowly return," Thor assured him.

Jack nodded and paused. "Teal'c, what's with the hair?"

Teal'c grimace became a look of pain or annoyance, it was hard to tell which.

"I am glad that you are recovering Colonel O'Neill," Thor said.

"Thanks buddy," Jack said before he winced and began massaging his temples.

"Any pain or discomfort should be alleviated soon. I will transport you to the surface once you are better," Thor said before he walked to the command console.

Sam smiled and put a hand on Jack's shoulder, getting his attention. "Sure glad to see you, sir."

"Yeah, likewise," Jack said, looking at her and then the others.

* * *

 **October 24th, 2005**

There was a knock.

Elizabeth Weir looked up to see Colonel O'Neill standing at the open door to the office. "Colonel, come in. How are you feeling?"

"Not bad, haven't had the urge to go anywhere or build anything lately."

Elizabeth went back to packing her belongings while making small talk with the Colonel.

"You going somewhere?" the man asked, finally remarking on the state of her office.

"As a matter of fact, the President has asked me to supervise the research at the Ancient outpost. It's gonna be a bit of a delicate situation given all the various international claims already being made on the site."

"Sounds right up your alley," Jack said with a tone so dry that it could've caught fire.

"Yeah, well, much more so than this job," Weir said with a self-deprecating smile.

They spoke some more about the future, about Hammond, and about Homeworld Security. When Colonel O'Neill asked the question she'd been looking forward to answering for him, she gave him her full attention.

"Any idea who we're gonna be stuck with?"

"The Pentagon has convinced the President that there is one man who could run the SGC and make it politically viable from an international perspective despite the fact that he is part of the American military establishment," Weir informed the man now seated in front of her.

"Do we know this...shrub?" Jack asked, obviously unconvinced.

Weir put her hands on the desk and leaned down, facing him. She gave him a coy smile, "well you know him rather well... _Brigadier General_ Jack O'Neill."

Not long after he left her office, she stopped packing once more and sat down heavily into her chair. She thought about the Stargate program, about Antarctica, about Atlantis. She thought about the international political free-for-all she was preparing to enter that might change or destroy her career. And most of all, she thought about the things the man named Whistler had told her and about three young women that she'd likely be meeting soon who might be able to help her.

He had told her things about her own life that no one else should have known, things that even she had forgotten about herself. He had told her some of the things that Earth might face in the future. He had told her about Atlantis. Then he had told her of other things, things she wasn't entirely able to reconcile with just yet.

It would all come together soon, he had said, and she didn't need to do anything but accept it when the time came. She still didn't know who or what he was, but she did know that the other things he had told her, should they be true, held the possibility of changing everything she thought she knew about the world, about humanity, even about good and evil itself.

 _"This world is older than any of you know..."_

* * *

"So, shopping?"

Sitting on top of a kitchen counter, Faith looked up from her cereal to see Buffy, fully dressed and almost bouncing with energy. Waking up wrapped around Buffy had been a surprisingly non-awkward affair, something Faith was immensely grateful for. But that gratitude was swiftly vanishing in the face of Buffy's bright smile and excitement.

 _Ugh, morning people._

"B, I'm not even dressed yet. We'll go shopping, but can't it wait a little longer?"

Buffy pouted. "Come on, Faith, I don't know any of the stores here and I need some boots. The cowboy kind that the Brachen bouncer at Lorne's had."

Faith rolled her eyes. She was about to respond when there was a blinding flash and familiar sense of disorientation.

A second later and her ass hit the uncomfortably cold and metallic floor followed shortly by the spoon laden with milk and fruit loops. Luckily for her, the food didn't land on _her_ , less fortunate for the ship belonging to the Asgard staring at her from several feet away. Then again, he was an uber-advanced species; he could figure out how to use a paper towel or a mop

"Slayer, it is good to see you."

"Thor, man, you gotta give a girl some warning before you do that," Faith said, rubbing the newly abused part of her body.

"My apologies," Thor said with a nod.

Faith noticed that he didn't actually say that a warning would be given in the future, but hey, she was in a spaceship. Which _was_ a first.

"Wow," she said, softly. Reality hit her and she was suddenly struck speechless. She'd been preparing for this sort of opportunity for the last two years but for it to be suddenly thrust upon her left her dazed. Faith looked into the dark reaches of space filled with the tiny lights of far away stars and even further away galaxies then looked down at the blue and green marble that she called home.

It was the kind of perspective that changed your world, Faith realized. She'd endured so much pain in her childhood and youth, spent so much time killing vampires, slaying demons, fighting the forces of Evil, that she had lost the idea of what she was fighting _for._ But staring down at Earth, she understood so much more now. It was breathtaking. It was terrifying. Faith just now realized Thor had been speaking to her and turned to him. "I'm sorry, I was..."

"I understand, Slayer."

Being called 'Slayer' suddenly reminded her of something important. "Shit, Buffy!"

#

Buffy blinked, trying to clear her vision in the aftermath of that blinding light. It didn't take more than a few heartbeats for her to realize that the kitchen now held one less occupant than before. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. This was _not_ how this morning was supposed to go and it wasn't even Tuesday! She dug her phone out of her pocket then paused.

Who was she supposed to call? Her initial, and current, inclination was to call Wills and get her to magic Faith out of there and go Darth Willow on her kidnappers' asses. She had also paused because it wasn't just magic users who might have the capability of 'beaming' someone out of their own house and Faith was demonstrably known to that part of the world. The part of the world that was _out_ of this world.

Buffy snickered. _I've got to remember that one_.

She shook her head sharply. Word play, later. Finding Faith, now. She dialed the number, slightly fumbling with the accursed machine.

She stopped.

Paled.

Trembled.

"I've become Giles," she gasped in horrible realization, but still managed to dial the number.

"Buffy! Hey! Dawn told me you're in Colorado hanging out with Faith, which is cool. She also told me about Spike and your fight, which is a little less cool. Are you okay? Do you want Kennedy to go all 'grr' on anyone? I've never been there but I heard Colorado is a pretty cool place so unless Faith goes evil again, she should be able to show you a good time."

Buffy opened her mouth, trying to halt the Willow babble in the ensuing silence but Willow started up again with a squeak. "Not like a _sexual_ kind of 'show you a good time', I mean. Like a movie or a walk or shopping sort of good time. Or get Faith to introduce you to some of her pals like Major Carter. You know, the woman I got to be friendly with when I was helping her with the whole 'boss needs a brain defrag' thing? Well, she was saying that Faith and she had become really good friends, so you should really get Faith to introduce you. Shouldn't be hard, like I said they got pretty close, like an actual 'show you a good time' of close. Major Carter even let slip that Faith was pretty studly with a strap-on...I shouldn't have said that, shit, someone stop me—mmph."

Buffy's eyes were wide and her mouth was hanging open. She could hear Kennedy's hysterical laughter in the background but her mind had decided to go on vacation without inviting the rest of her.

"Buffy? Willow's taking a second to breathe again. Sorry about the TMI. What's up?" Kennedy's voice redirected her attention from the lewd images she had conjured to the emergency that had prompted her call.

"Faith disappeared."

"What?"Willow's voice asked in the background.

"She was eating breakfast right in front of me and she went 'poof'." Earlier conversation and revelations forgotten, Buffy's tone became urgent.

"Went 'poof' how?" Willow asked, now clearly the one holding the phone again.

"I don't know! Why do you think I'm calling you!?"

"Oh, right. Um...did you see anything?"

"Yeah, there was a bright—"

"Buffy?"

"Buffy, are you there? Buffy?!"

Willow's increasingly worried queries went unanswered as the same bright flash that had left only one Slayer in the apartment now left none.

#

"—flash!" Buffy stopped, instantly aware that something had fundamentally changed. She put the phone that now displayed "No Service Available" in large bold letters into her pocket.

"Hey B."

Faith's voice had her full attention and she followed the source of the voice until Buffy saw the dark haired woman. She was still wearing the white wifebeater and dark navy boyshorts that she'd gone to bed with. She could have said "Faith, oh my god are you okay?!" or "I'm so glad you're okay!" or even a "Hey Faith" but she didn't. No, instead Buffy's first words in space, first words in an alien spaceship, first words spoken in front of an alien were: "Faith! You had sex with Major Carter!? With a strap-on?!" To make matters worse, her words were delivered in a manner language experts would define as a 'squeak'.

Faith's eyes had gone huge and her face went red. That was odd in itself, as Faith was a very difficult person to embarrass, especially about anything related to sex. The brunette began coughing and Buffy couldn't decide if they girl was mortified or amused.

"I was not aware that Major Carter was attracted to other females."

Buffy closed her eyes. _No, no, no, nononono._ Faith was still coughing...no, it was starting to sound more like laughter. Less mortified than amused then. _Bitch._ She turned, dreading what she already knew was awaiting her.

He was exactly as Faith had described. Short. Grey. Big black eyes. Nude. _Check, check, check, and ohmygod check._

"Greetings Buffy Summers. I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet," the short grey being said.

Buffy gave him a weak wave. "Hi." She floundered, not knowing what to say after the dazzling first impression she had surely made. Luckily, Faith saved her. Sort of.

"She's not," Faith said with a final cough, "not gay I mean. Sam has a torch...ah I mean she's always been attracted to Colonel O'Neill. She wasn't doing too well when Jack got shoved into stasis and I...helped her out. Teal'c isn't exactly the comforting type and Daniel? Jack would knock him on his ass when he found out."

Thor tilted his head.

 _Ah,_ Faith thought fondly, _I've missed my besty A man of few words indeed._ "Sam and I both knew each other, knew enough that secrets weren't an issue. She didn't have to worry about working with me on a daily or even regular basis. We were both comfortable being friends before, during, and after we..." Faith coughed again and shot a pointed look towards Buffy, "became intimate. It was only for a month or two. But she's not gay, maybe just a tiny smidge bi, but it was mostly because I was there and we were both lonely."

"Fascinating," Thor said in a voice that held far too much gravitas for the subject matter. "Human sexual dynamics are surprisingly complex, something I might wish to discuss at a later point."

"Anytime," Faith said nonchalantly with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"But that is not why I brought you, either of you, here," Thor told Faith.

Buffy, looking anywhere but at Faith and Thor, asked the question first. "So, why did you bring us here?"

"The first subject I wished to notify you about is in fact relevant to our discussion regarding Faith Lehane's sexual liaison with Major Carter. I was contacted by both Major Carter and Teal'c who notified me about O'Neill's status and asked for my assistance. I was able to successfully restore Colonel O'Neill and he is now on the surface, recovering."

"Jack is back? Wicked!"

"There is one more item I wished to discuss with you, something of great importance. As you know, the Nox have been monitoring the Slayer's status on this world for millennia. That function is joined by others such as providing aid to the guardian in monitoring the Deeper Well."

An Illyria sized headache blossomed in Buffy's head.

"They notified us that there had been a breach and there had been signs that an Old One had escaped, however after a short time those signs disappeared. They have heard nothing more to indicate there is still a danger but they remain...vocal in their concerns. Are you aware of any event that might have transpired to raise such an alarm?"

Thor's question hung in the air for a moment before Buffy reluctantly nodded. Not answering the question, evading, or lying outright seemed like bad thing to do when the only escape you had was into vacuum. Besides, the Nox or whatever were apparently trying to do them a favor.

"An idiot human managed to smuggle an Old One out of the Deeper Well. That Old One's essence was placed into a girl, a friend of ours in fact. She died in the transition and now Illyria walks in her body. Most of her powers are gone and she fights for the good guys...sort of."

Thor had gone very, very still and studied her for long moments. "Illyria was an extremely powerful being, Buffy Summers. She was responsible for the deaths of many Nox, Asgard, Furlings, and especially your Ancients. You do not believe her to be a threat any longer?"

That really didn't mean a whole lot to Buffy but from the way Faith had paled, the brunette was freaked. "She's a threat, of course she's a threat, but with most of her power gone...there are bigger ones, bigger threats out there I mean. It was also implied that Illyria would likely be leaving this planet soon."

"Implied? By whom?" Thor asked with a blink of his eyes.

 _God, Faith was right, those eyes are freaky!_ Buffy blinked. "Lorne. He's a demon who runs a karaoke bar on Earth. He has the ability to see the past and possible futures of a person who sings to him. When Faith sang to him, he said that Faith and Illyria would be going far away and for a long time." _And I might be going with them._

"I...see," Thor said and was silent for a while. "I will need to consider this and discuss it with the others. Would it be possible for you to arrange a meeting between Illyria and I?"

Faith exchanged a long worried look with Buffy. "Yeah, I'll see what she says. Um...how do I call you?"

"Inform Colonel O'Neill and he will deliver the message," Thor answered.

Buffy stepped back, letting the other two speak and taking the time to observe Faith and her interactions with this alien, with Thor. Faith was so comfortable, so willing to be who she was. Some of it was a front, she knew that now, but many of the insecurities she'd tried to cover up in the past were gone. Whatever insecurities Faith _still_ had, her confidence and growing feeling of self-worth had made them manageable rather than hidden and festering from within. Buffy envied Faith that lack of doubt, she always had whether it had been genuine or a facade. In Sunnydale, it was an envy based on ignorance, pettiness, and insecurity. But it wasn't just Faith who'd done a lot of maturing, they all had. Her envy was still there, but it was less about Faith and more about how she wished she could own who she was.

Buffy let out a quiet sigh and let her eyes focus on her surroundings for the first time. She noticed Faith still speaking quietly with Thor, the latter of whom really _did_ kind of look like a Muppet. Faith shot her a questioning eyebrow at her to which Buffy just shook her head. She continued her perusal, idly noting that for a spaceship, it didn't really feel all that spaceship-y.

Buffy looked to the front of the ship. The port? Starboard? Whichever it was, she went there, walking across the smooth metallic floor to catch her first up-close look into space.

There was a darkness, a looming blackness that seemed like it should have enshrouded everything. But it hadn't, for the darkness was held at bay by the twinkling lights of stars and by the planet below that she'd been born on, grew up on, and died on. Seeing that planet, _her_ planet, from this vantage, she suddenly felt like her place in the universe had shifted, though she wasn't sure if that change was something she could define yet.

Buffy frowned, feeling moisture on her cheeks. Raising a hand to her face, she discovered that she was crying. She was crying, she realized, not because she was sad or heartbroken or even because she was happy or relieved.

She cried slow silent tears because in that moment...her sudden understanding made her feel as close to Heaven as she'd ever felt since being ripped from within its gates. She cried because she now knew what she wanted. Buffy had weighed the possibility of leaving everyone and everything on that world behind, that world which only now seemed so beautiful. She cried because seeing what she saw now made the choice easy.

Buffy didn't jump when she felt Faith behind her, having heard her approach. The brunette's steps were slow, almost tentative, which just seemed so _wrong_ for Faith, she thought somewhat numbly. She closed her eyes when arms...strong arms...Slayer arms...wrapped around her.

"B?"

She thought of those stars that held off that darkness and considered her own life. Before the Master had killed her, she'd been alone. One Slayer to protect the entire world against all the nasties the universe had in store for humanity. She'd fulfilled her destiny and had died for that world...but Xander had brought her back. Soon enough there had been Kendra...then Faith...and now hundreds if not thousands of Slayers across the entire world all of whom were casting their own lights to keep the blackness at bay. The world which had seemed so dark had never been so bright as it was now.

"B? You alright?"

Buffy looked into space, at the stars, at Earth, and into herself. Oddly enough, it was a memory of Andrew that helped her focus her thoughts. She remembered sitting with him in Scotland when the Scoobies had first moved there, watching one of his sci-fi shows. She remembered a scene where a human was confronted by two aliens, each of whom asked a question: _Who are you?_ and _What do you want?_ She hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but she suddenly understood the depth of those questions. She couldn't truthfully say she knew who she was or what she wanted, but maybe she had a better idea now than she had before.

Buffy didn't answer Faith's softly spoken question. Instead, she turned in Faith's arms so that she faced the other Slayer. Faith's eyebrows drew up in concern, no doubt seeing her tears. When Faith made as if to release her, Buffy leaned up and kissed Faith lightly on the lips. It wasn't sensual or even romantic, but it felt all the more important because of that. Buffy ended the kiss, watching the rapid changes in Faith's expression. But she didn't see anymore soon after that because she buried her face into Faith's shoulder and cried.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** At this point the story will definitely be heading in a more distinct direction. Given previous hints and statements (of mine or the story's), you can be sure that Stargate Atlantis will be heavily involved. Starting a crossover from day 1 onto a new show with the characters already (more or less) pre-established in each other's universe offers a lot of freedom in how I move forward. There was a Babylon 5 reference for those of you who were a fan of the best sci-fi show of the 90s.

I generally hate it when a character (crossover or not) is inserted into a scene that they are not supposed to be in. (I.e. Sam's presence at Jack's 'resurrection' moment). It always feels cheesy and I don't think I've ever truly seen that kind of story device work seamlessly with the rest of that scene. I tried the best I could to keep her presence minimal but still acknowledged.

I am still unsure of whether Whistler's hat was a fedora or a bowler cap. I could find nothing conclusive online and even watching his very few scenes left me unsure. I decided to call it a fedora because, face it, fedoras are cool. I didn't really want a full length Whistler scene but I love the idea of throwing him in now and then for some behind the scenes wetwork. Making his discussion with Weir mysterious, at least partly so, gives me leeway about what to write in the future but also gives you a chance to stretch that old imagination of yours.

The timeline of all this is tricky like I said when I first began part II. Two years for the story but only one for Stargate means things are stretching out. Jack would have entered the pod about a year ago if I wanted to make that timeline accurate and that sounded just fine to me. Illyria would have been on the scene several months earlier than that.

The Fuffy: Okay, so, obviously moving forward on this front. This is probably one of, if not the sappiest scenes I'll be writing. I wanted the scene to end with Buffy coming to grips with the fact that she was unhappy and that she was ready to accept that she _wanted_ to be happy, ergo going with Faith. The story should be a steady ramp up into the next major plot development within the next two chapters.  
The Sam relationship was something I'd been thinking of ever since I wrote this story, back when I was trying to decide _if_ I was going to add a relationship and with who. When it came down to it, I like Sam's character and I just can't see Faith with any of the others, except for Daniel and I feel like that would be Xander all over again (in the way Daniel and Xander are so...innocent? compared to the others, maybe?). The strap-on bit was just for shock value and was the line I referenced to in the top author's notes; to reiterate there won't be anything resembling smut in the story (aka The Mom Rule as defined previously).  
As for timing...let's say Faith and Sam fall into bed three months after Jack goes nighty-night, enjoy each other's company for two months, and that still leaves seven months for Sam to get O'Neill back and settle whatever it is that needs to be settled with Faith. Honestly, please don't make a big deal about that big. Let's be serious here, this is Faith, do you really think she's going to remain celibate for two years? And given that her feelings for Buffy aren't, to her knowledge, reciprocated then it shouldn't be a shock for her to seek companionship elsewhere. This past relationship of Faith's is going to stay in the past, and while there may be a reference or two, there is not going to be a drama-llama originating from this.

There was a story inconsistency that I just caught. Way back in the beginning of this story I made a reference to Homeworld Security, capitol letters and all. That has only just come about in SG canon so...yeah, consider it acknowledged and the chapter was edited accordingly.


	16. Meet and Greet

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Six**

 _ **Meet and Greet**_

* * *

 **HowlnMadHowie:** As always, your review and commentary is appreciated. You've been great with your questions and/or suggestions so truly, thank you. To your comments: I haven't really said much about the ATA gene/Ancients/Slayer connection or if there _is_ one and how it all reconciles with BtVS canon and still allowing for the Nox to be...sensitive to their status. That should be discussed as the story progresses in a later chapter.  
Whistler and Weir: Only a little bit ago, Daniel was telling Boyd that he should avoid telling Weir if possible, not necessarily because of _her_ but because of all the people she's involved with or who she reports to. Going to Atlantis would isolate her from those problems, and Whistler would be presumably smoothing things over for the inevitable future "wtf she's not human?" moment. I tried to imply that Whistler did not say exactly what Buffy/Faith/Illyria are, just that they can help. As for the PtB and their reach into Pegasus. *shrug* Presumably, no, their reach doesn't extend that far. Then again, I don't think destiny is constrained by distance and light years. I'd see this as more of a "let's send them off and see if they do some good" rather than some would also tie in Illyria, who the PtB would _definitely_ not want hanging around on Earth.

 **Author's Notes:** This chapter will be very Stargate heavy. I know everyone's been waiting for the good stuff to happen, so here you go. There will a brief bit of Fluffy at the beginning, but that's it.

As far as I know, Whistler was never able to just appear somewhere like he was teleported in. My thinking: he's the offspring of a pure-blood demon and a direct agent of the Powers that Be who also works for the PtBs. If he doesn't have the ability, then he definitely has the backers.

* * *

#

Faith watched Buffy, trying to figure out what to say, or how to say it. Thor had just beamed them back down to the apartment with the promise to contact him about Illyria reaffirmed. More important than Old Ones and Asgard was the kiss Buffy had given her onboard the _Daniel Jackson_. Oh, and she could not _wait_ to badger Daniel or Jack about _that._

Buffy was now sitting in one of her chairs in the living room, the black leather seeming to have molded around her small form, while Faith gazed at her over the wet bar. Yeah, that chair had been a good find.

"B?"

"Yeah, Faith?"

"What just happened?"

"I'd say Scotty just beamed us up, went all Roswell on us, and beamed us back down."

"That's not what I mean, Buffy," Faith said, sounding aggravated. "Why did you kiss me?"

Buffy was quiet for a while but had turned her head to look at Faith. "Remember how I didn't want to talk about what Lorne had said at Caritas? Well...I'm ready."

Faith, feeling unsure of herself, went into the living room to sit on the side of the couch closest to Buffy. She looked expectantly at Buffy.

Buffy took a deep breath. "He said that I could be content here. That I might find some satisfaction in St. Louis or Cleveland or Scotland, whatever. Might find a fun job or an interesting man. Might even have the whole white picket fence thing, you know?"

Faith nodded with a neutral expression.

"But I wouldn't be happy," Buffy continued, clenching a fist to hide the trembling of her hand. "Lorne said that the only way I would trulybe _happy_ was if I went with you." She paused and rolled her eyes, "and Illyria."

Faith leaned back, unsure of exactly how she should respond, trying to process what Buffy had just told her. "So what was the kiss about? Please tell me you didn't kiss me because Lorne said only I would make you happy."

Buffy shrugged. "You and me, Faith, there's always been, I don't know, something. And I'm not an idiot, I know that you've always...liked me."

Faith wanted to deny it, but it would have been a lie and now didn't seem the time for lies, so she merely nodded.

"What Lorne said might have jump started it all, but don't think it's something I've never considered. I mean, seriously. Willow, Tara, Kennedy, yeah...thoughts happened."

Faith smirked a bit at that and raised a brow. "So what now, B?"

"We take 'us' slow and you better get me up to speed on space-y things. And you better figure out how to get Illyria to meet up with Thor," Buffy responded, grimacing at the last task.

Faith gave a slow nod and stood up, "Yeah, I think I know who to call. Illyria probably won't take a summons over the phone all that well, you know how she is about groveling and all that." Faith made as if to leave the room but paused and went back to stand in front of Buffy. Buffy opened her mouth to say something, but Faith leaned down and interrupted it with a kiss of her own.

Unlike Buffy's kiss, this one was definitely a little sensual and romantic, one that lingered for what felt like hours. Faith grinned at Buffy's slightly dazed look when she slowly straightened herself.

"We were supposed to take it slow," Buffy said in a breathy voice, though it didn't sound like she was really complaining all that much.

"Well B, I imagine you'll find that I'm real good at fast _and_ slow."

Faith walked out of the room without another word, leaving a blushing, smiling Buffy behind.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Yo MPD, I need your help."

Major Paul Davis looked at his office phone as if it had suddenly turned into a serpent. A poisonous one. With fangs. "With what?" he asked warily, having known Faith Lehane for long enough and well enough to understand that some of her 'requests' could lead nowhere good far too quickly.

"I'm on a mission from God."

There was a silence.

"From Thor."

More silence with a slightly less hostile undercurrent.

"'Cause Thor's the Norse lightning g—"

"Yes, Faith, I get it," Paul snapped. He got up from his desk and shut the door to his office and prepared himself for whatever Faith and Thor might have in store for him. "You do realize that I'm a Major in the United States military working for the Pentagon, right? Not your personal gofer!"

"I know, but Thor suggested—"

"Liar."

"Fair enough. But seriously Paul, we really do have something to accomplish and I don't know anyone who is likely to deal with it as well as you." Faith's voice was sincere, which made the situation even less comforting given the subject matter.

"Tell me what you want and I'll _consider_ it."

"I need you to deliver a message to a God."

"I'm hanging up, Faith."

"I'm serious. She prefers the title "God-King" however, and she requires a bit of a...delicate touch and a _great_ deal of patience," Faith said in a rush of words.

"Well that rules _you_ out," Paul said sourly. His eyes narrowed when he heard a laugh in the background. "Who's that?"

"Ah, that's Buffy. Interesting fact, she is the fourth Slayer that Thor has personally encountered."

Paul let his head fall into his hand and allowed himself to be baited. "Fourth?"

"Yep, apparently way back in the day one of the Slayers thought he was a demon and...you know, tried to make like a Slayer. Thor said she came close, too."

 _What am I even supposed to say to something like that?_ Paul rubbed his forehead. "What do you want, Faith?"

"I told you Paul, I need you to deliver a message from Thor and myself. Thor was kind enough to write the...letter, I think that's what it is anyway, seeing as I don't know how to write Sanskrit from gazillions of years ago, but the letter needs delivering. You're the kind of person who can do this without causing mortal offense." Faith paused for a moment before continuing. "If it makes you feel any better, _not_ delivering this message might result in the Asgard, Nox, and possibly the Furlings staging an...intervention."

"That does _not_ make me feel any better, Faith." Paul sighed. "Faith..."

"Major Davis."

Paul sighed again and straightened; Faith only ever called him that when she was being serious and professional. "What do you have for me?"

"Her name is Illyria," Faith said immediately, "known as Illyria the Merciless, God-King of the Primordium."

"You're joking."

"Not joking, Paul. She isn't what she used to be, but she is still a power on this world. Remember our talk about the Deeper Well?"

Paul's stomach plummeted. "Don't tell me..."

"Illyria is an Old One. She predates human civilization and could give the Goa'uld lessons on ego and arrogance. She _was_ capable of altering the flow of time, teleporting, interdimensional travel, and a whole bag of other fun tricks."

" _Was_?"

"Was," Faith confirmed. "Her escape from the Deeper Well wasn't actually done under her own initiative or direction. It was apparently preordained, and a human who knew of her, worshiped her, decided to do something really fucking stupid. He thought the girl he admired so much, loved even, would be the best possible candidate to house his God. So he made it happen. The girl died and Illyria is now stuck in her form, mostly. She lost most of her power soon after, but like I said, she's still a powerhouse."

"You've known about her then, and didn't tell us?" Davis asked incredulously.

"Look, by the time _I_ knew, she was already settled down. Sort of. She fights with us, us as in the Watcher's Council, though I think its mostly out of of boredom and an appreciation for a good rumble."

"You are not making me feel any better here, Faith." After a moment of silence, the military officer capitulated. "How do I get this message, where do I deliver it, and who do I deliver it to? I mean what does that...host's body look like?"

"The transition that allowed Illyria to take over the body had the side effect of causing the body's internal organs to liquefy. She's not a host, she's a shell. She's not a Goa'uld, Paul, better get that straight. This needs to get done soon, so Thor is waiting to be contacted. Once you contact him, he'll give you the message and beam you out close to her location. You might be SOL on the return beam out though, FYI, knowing Thor. Illyria is currently in Scotland with the Council."

Paul suddenly had the image of dozens of teenage girls laughing, smiling, doing each other's hair while 'Illyria the Merciless' stood over them with a murderous expression. He shuddered. The fact that those teenage girls were all likely to be Slayers didn't mean a whole lot. "And the h—shell?"

There was a long pause. "It's Fred, Paul, that human dickweed shoved an Old One into Fred."

Paul closed his eyes. He'd never met Winifred Burkle, but her disappearance and subsequent reappearance at Angel's side had raised flags. She was universally liked by her colleagues and was bright enough that she'd managed to teach Majo—excuse me, Lt. Colonel Carter a thing or two about quantum physics. She'd also been on a list, a very short list, of civilians that were deemed viable recruitment candidates for the Stargate program. "Damn."

"Illyria. She looks like Fred, talks like Fred, and has Fred's memories. But Paul, it ain't Fred, ya dig? She can go from happy Fred to red leather armor, blue streaky hair, 'I'm going to tear out your heart and make you watch while I eat it' Illyria in a heartbeat. A bit of good news is that Angel is around, so she shouldn't be too much of the latter."

"Noted, what else?"

"Remember what I said about arrogance and ego? Don't forget it, she's scary good at offending everyone in a room without knowing or caring. Blue has this whole speech about humans being muck and everything."

"Blue?" Paul asked, confused.

"When she goes 'balls to the walls' Illyria, she gets blue streaks in her hair. Blue eyes, blue lips, and some blue skin, too. Seeing the common theme here? Another good mood-o-meter is to pay attention when her Southern Belle accent vamooses," Faith explained.

"Alright, I'll take care of it," Paul said, trying to figure out how he was supposed to let his superiors know about all...this. "Does Lt. Colonel Carter know about Fred?"

"Not yet, wait, Sam got a promotion? Good on her. Anyway, no she doesn't. "

"Yes, she did and do it. They were friends," Paul told her firmly.

"I will. Thor told me O'Neill's back, does that mean Hammond is too?" Faith asked.

"No. General Hammond has been given a promotion and was reassigned. _Brigadier General_ Jack O'Neill is slated to be the next CO at Stargate Command." Paul smiled, happy to think of something other than lost friends and ancient demons.

"No shit?" Faith asked, delighted, "he got a promotion, too?"

"No shit."

"Please tell me there's some equivalent to birthday spankings for promotions!?" Faith begged, "I know you military brats get pretty homoerotic at times."

Paul barked out a laugh. "Afraid not, Faith. Besides, we try _not_ to spank our superior officers. I'm going to let you go now, I apparently have some Gods to go pay homage to."

"Alright, thanks Paul, and good luck!"

Paul put the phone onto the receiver and thought about how he could pull this task off without having a certain blue older-than-dirt demon make him watch while it ate his heart.

#

"Paul?"

"Hm?" Faith asked somewhat absentmindedly as she put her phone into her pocket and put on her jacket.

"Who's Paul"

 _Uh-oh, I know that tone. Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!_ "Major Paul Davis. He was the only "in the know" military guy they had on hand when I got beamed into the base. And yes, Buffy, we did have a thing. He's a nice, smart guy that can handle what's out there. Out there and out _there_." The last was said with a finger pointed upwards. "He reminded me of Robin in some ways. It was pretty good for a while but we ended it before anything serious developed. He wanted a more permanent relationship with someone and we both knew that it wasn't going to be me."

Buffy eyed her.

"B...if you start getting jealous when we're around these people, we're gonna have us a problem."

Buffy opened her mouth and closed it. Faith watched her take a deep breath. "I know, I know. I just didn't expect to hear so much of it today." Buffy paused. "Aren't Sam and _Paul_ both like, twice as old as you?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "Really, B, _you_ want to go _there_? But yeah, they're both older by about a decade and some change," Faith responded. "Pretty sure it bothered Paul a lot more than it did Sam."

Buffy looked abashed for a moment than furrowed her brows as she observed Faith. "Faith, where are we going?"

"Shopping," Faith answered, finally finished with putting her shoes on. "I owe you some boots and then we're gonna go round us up a Brigadier General to give some promotion spankings to," the brunette said with a wicked glint in her eye. Buffy's face had gained a sort of dazed look when Faith had mentioned shopping, so Faith grabbed the other girl's coat and pulled her out of the apartment.

* * *

 **October 25th, 2005**

Jack woke with a start at the sudden and explosive knocking at his front door. He instinctively grabbed his service pistol from his bedside table and rolled off the bed, coming to a defensive crouch. He cautiously crept towards his open bedroom door, trying to determine the nature of the threat. There was a silence then, the knocking suddenly cut off. The abruptness of it didn't make Jack feel any better.

He thought he heard voices and strained to listen. At least two, female, and by the sound of it, arguing. Jack's eyes narrow. _This better not be two drunk UCCS coeds lost trying to find the next party._

He jumped when the pounding on the door suddenly resumed. Jack slowly walked down the stairs, still holding the pistol in a ready position. The knocking continued. _Well at least it's not the NID or the Trust,_ he thought sarcastically, _they aren't nearly as obnoxious as this._

Jack held the gun behind his back with one hand while the other opened the door. He moved with the door, keeping his arm and pistol hidden from sight. Whoever these...bimbos...were, he was gonna make them cry, he couldn't wait. He opened his mouth, ready to begin his confidence-destroying, ego-busting rant when he realized that he knew one of the aforementioned bimbos. The one he didn't recognize looked incredibly annoyed. He sympathized with her. But the other...

"Oh for cryin' out loud!"

Faith advanced on him, entering his house and shaking her finger at him. "You don't call! You don't write! Do you know who told me you were back? Thor! I had to hear it from Thor!"

Jack held his hands up in surrender.

He didn't remember anything after that.

#

"What the fuck, B!?"

"He had a gun!"

"Of course he did, did you miss my attempts to wake the neighborhood with my delicate knocking? Of course he had a gun!"

"A gun!"

"Yes. You better get used to them if you're going anywhere with me. Now give me his gun, he'll want it back."

There was another pause while Jack tried to understand why he was staring at the ceiling and why both his hand and his nose were throbbing.

"What the fuck, B! What did you do to his gun!?"

"It's a gun!"

"Yes, Buffy, we've established that. You realize this is the guy whose ass we're supposed to kiss, right?"

"Look, I'm sorry alright? I'm sorry."

Jack's vision was suddenly filled by Faith's worried expression. "Hey Fai—" Jack cringed and held the not-throbbing hand up to his nose. His bleeding nose evidently, given the red that now stained that hand. "You broke my nose! Again! _And_ my hand!"

There was an unhappy sound several feet away. Jack followed the sound to see a short, pretty blonde looking extremely morose. "Sorry, that was me. I don't like guns."

She looked so miserable that Jack let Barbie Badass off the hook, for now at least. "Neither do I. You can start your ass kissing by getting Sam over here or by taking me to the base so I don't have to pay a million bucks at the ER."

Faith frowned. "I was told not to go near the base due to visiting VIPs." The blonde looked confused. "Very Important Persons, Buffy. Shit, Riley should have taught you that."

Jack ignored the byplay. "They left just this morning. Crap, I think my hand really is broken." Okay, so maybe he wouldn't let the blonde _completely_ off the hook. "Take me to the base and tell me why my ass needs kissing. And give me my service weapon back, Lehane." He watched as Faith glared at the blonde even as she handed the gun back to Jack.

Except...it wasn't quite a gun. It looked like it might have been a gun once, but not so much anymore. The trigger and trigger guard had been crushed and the barrel had been bent sideways.

Jack sighed and eye the blonde who was staring down at the floor looking guilty. "Using my powers of deductive reasoning, her calling you Buffy must make you Buffy Summers." Seeing her hesitant nod, he shot Faith a dour expression. "Lovely, now there are two of you around to knock me on my ass."

"It's good to see you again, Jack," Faith said with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, you too."

* * *

"So, let me run this by you again," Jack began, sitting in his office and looking across the desk at the blonde and brunette in front of him. "Just to make sure I've got this straight."

Faith winced. Jack was not happy and it wasn't just the broken nose and badly sprained wrist that had him in a mood.

"So as far as I can tell, you have four problems on your plate that you want me to solve. Let me break this down. Point one: there is an Old One on this planet that you knew of and didn't tell us about and Thor wants to meet her to determine whether or not the three remaining Great Races are needed to shove her back down that Well of yours. Yes?"

Faith nodded. "Thor thought the Ancient outpost in Antarctica would be a good place to meet, some place that was mostly absent of human, demon, or Asgard influence. The alternatives were here, which I'm sure you can agree is all sorts of a _bad_ idea, or going barhopping and hitting Caritas. Problem with the latter is that the idea of Thor meeting an Old One in a _bar_ makes me cringe just imagining it."

"But imagine the 'An Asgard and an Old One walk into a bar' joke possibilities," Jack said, a slight smile appearing on his face.

Buffy got an odd look on her face. "An Asgard and an Old One walk into a bar and the Old One says, "Where are my legions and my empire? Why am I surrounded by the filth and muck that calls itself humanity? In the old days I was blah-blah-blah."

Faith and Jack stared at her for a moment. Jack finally said, "I don't get it."

"I've spent a lot more time around her than you, Faith. She _loves_ the muck rant, like a whole 'apple a day' thing with her," Buffy said, rolling her eyes.

"From your description she seems more...petulant and nostalgic...than godlike and destroyer of man-ish," Jack observed.

"Yeah, well, when she first came around in LA she was able to teleport, make her own shields, alter time, and shoot energy at people. She could also apparently talk to plants. But the human form she'd been stuffed into wasn't strong enough to contain her and if Wesley and the others hadn't managed to drain her powers, then she would have burst at the seams. That could have wiped out the entire continent and she _still_ might have been able to survive that. For a former being able to do _that_ now reduced to what she is now...petulant and nostalgic fits the bill," Faith said.

"Christ, we'll get back to that on point number three. Neutral ground: Why not just some swanky hotel room? Or conference room in Area 51 or something?"

"There is an area 51?!" Buffy blurted out, "like Independence Day?"

Jack glared at her.

"Sorry," Buffy said, miming zipping her lips.

"Illyria is all about pride. If we're going to do this _without_ offending Illyria or convincing Thor that humanity is in danger of 'imminent destruction', than she needs to feel important. Antarctica is a bad idea because even though Thor can beam himself there, Illyria would be limited to a chopper or whatever you use to get there."

There was a knock at the door and before Jack even had a chance to respond, Daniel Jackson and Sam Carter came in. "Hey Jack, guess—oh."

"Sure, Dr. Jackson, please come right in! _Lt. Colonel_ Carter, you too! No problem with just barging in."

The two newcomers looked embarrassed.

"Ah, sorry about that. Oh, hey Faith!" Sam said, smiling.

Buffy eyed the other blonde stopping only when Faith kicked her shin.

"Come on take up a chair, maybe the two of you can weigh in on this," Jack said.

Sam and Daniel did just that, grabbing chairs from the side of the office to put them next to the two younger women.

"Jack gave me a promotion and command over SG-1," Sam told Faith, with a smile directed towards Jack.

"I heard, 'grats to the both of you," Faith said with an approving nod.

"If I have to be The Man, then I will do my best to use the powers of The Man in the name of all that is good," Jack said with an aggrieved tone and self-sacrificing expression.

"Sam, Daniel, the young woman beside me is Buffy Summers. I'm pretty sure I told you all about her," Faith said.

"Oh," Daniel said, looking surprised, "yes, it is a pleasure to meet you Buffy."

"Likewise," Sam said, extending her hand.

Buffy took Sam's hand and shook it, liking the blonde despite herself.

"So, who and what can we weigh on?" Daniel asked.

#

"Wow."

"I know, right?" Jack said, agreeing with Daniel.

"If you don't want to have Illyria travel somewhere with the Asgard transport or an extended helicopter ride, why not use the _Prometheus_?" Sam asked.

Daniel opened his mouth then closed it.

"The _Prometheus_?" Buffy asked.

Jack winced, "You really need to get her up to speed on things."

"I'm on it," Faith assured him.

"Antarctica might still be possible. The _Prometheus_ is the first human built interstellar battlecruiser that we've developed. It has the capability to transport people to an from areas within a certain distance. The planet, in this case, would be within that distance," Sam explained.

"We have spaceships?" Buffy exclaimed, "wow!" She then asked, "are the transporters the bright flashy thing that Thor used?"

"Not quite, but close enough," Daniel said.

"Illyria wouldn't have to depend on Thor for beaming in and out and might actually give her a chance to think a little better about the muck,"Faith thought out loud, slowly nodding.

"Would there be a danger to the _Prometheus?_ " Jack asked.

"There is always a danger from Illyria," Buffy replied. Seeing his glare she hastily continued, "but I don't think so. Faith, I, or both of us _will_ be with her and if something...bad happens, we should be able to hold her off long enough for you to beam us down again. I don't know of any reason why she'd suddenly go all "The Merciless" on you though."

Jack decided not to ask for an elaboration of " _should_ be able to hold her off" and considered the option. "Well have to clear it with Colonel Pendergast, but it sounds like a viable solution. I'd also have to discuss it with Dr. Weir down in the land of ice and snow as well. She's the one that's been assigned to the project and she'll have to make sure her people stay out of the base."

"Weir turned out...alright. She shouldn't be a problem as long as we give her _some_ information. Seeing as she's not military, she'll have to be convinced rather than ordered," Daniel said with a pointed look towards Jack.

"Blech, what good is being a General if I can't tell people what to do."

"Okay, got this settled. Slayers, make sure the option is known to Her Demonness. Moving on. Point two, three, and four. Faith, from what you told me, a green skinned demon whose heart is located in his ass prophesied that you'll be going far away and for a long time. He then stated that Illyria is likely to go with you. Then he tells you, Buffy, that you should go with them. He said all of this, without saying when this trip would happen and what the trip's destination might be?"

"You saw Lorne?" Daniel perked up.

Jack looked askance at Daniel. "Have something to add to the class?"

"Ah, Lorne is a bit of a character. He runs a bar in town where anyone and anything can congregate without fear of violence. Literally, there's an actual spell that prevents it from humans and demons alike. Lorne himself is from a different dimension, Pylea, I think he said. He has the ability to see a person's future when they sing."

Jack just looked at him. "He has his _heart_ in his _ass._ "

Sam frowned, "Isn't Pylea where Fred disappeared to?"

Faith and Buffy glanced at each other and shared a wince. "Yeah, Lorne actually took Fred's place—but it wasn't his fault!"

"Yeah, I heard about that professor of hers," Sam said. Her brows furrowed at Faith and Buffy's wince, "what's wrong?"

Faith looked nervous. "Ah, Sam, about Fred."

"Illyria _is_ Fred," Buffy said bluntly. At Faith's glare, she defended herself hastily, "like ripping off a bandaid!" She turned towards Sam again who looked more confused then anything.

Faith sighed. "So, basically there was a really, really, _really_ stupid human who..."

#

"Where are Faith Lehane and Buffy Summers now?" Teal'c inquired.

"They went back to Faith's place, waiting to hear back from Major Davis," Daniel replied.

"I regret my absence. I would like to have met Buffy Summers," Teal'c said.

"Sorry about Fred, Sam," Jack said with a hand on her shoulder.

Sam nodded.

"What about the other issues?" Daniel asked.

"Seeing as both you and them put a lot of stock into this Lorne's "visions," we'll have to start planning for at least the possibility of Faith, Buffy, and even Illyria going off-world. Faith is about as good to go as she can get. She's had the physical stuff down since day one, and the weapons stuff by the end of the first week. Just about everything else has been languages, book learning, and practical application. Faith started when her education level was a lot lower than it should have been, but she probably still ended up learning more than she absolutely had to. If Faith starts putting Buffy through the paces, I'd be comfortable taking her off-world within a month or two and maybe an actual mission within six months. Faith has a better idea of what Buffy needs and what her capabilities are, she'll be able to make it work better than we did."

"And what of Illyria?" Teal'c asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jack eyed the former Jaffa. Or more correctly, he eyed the former Jaffa's hair. Teal'c mouth twitched in annoyance.

"By all accounts, Illyria no longer has any bodily requirements. When Fred was transitioning into Illyria her..." Sam paused and shook her head, "her internal organs were liquefied. Faith said that Illyria referred to her body as a shell, remember? She literally is that. She has no stomach, no lungs, no bladder and requires none of the _physical_ needs that we lowly mortals have."

Daniel pursed his lips. "And apparently she's far faster and stronger than any Slayer or demon, and that's _after_ she lost her powers. If you're willing to accept the hearsay, Buffy reported Angel as saying that the only time she was ever truly beaten on a physical level was against a direct agent of Wolfram  & Hart. There's no doubt that she _could_ be an asset."

"But one hell of a risk," Sam countered, playing devil's advocate.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

"And the _prophecy?_ " Jack asked.

"Lorne doesn't exactly prophesy. I'm not sure where it all comes from, but Lorne is able to see parts of your past and future from whatever it is that you sing. He knew that I had ascended, for example. He didn't know what that was or what it meant, but he knew that I had been to a higher plane of existence. Personal choice can change what he sees and not everything he sees comes to pass because of those choices," Daniel explained.

"And the fact that he's a demon?" Jack pressed.

"From what I understand of demons, Lorne would be of the variety that is classified as more 'interdimensional traveler' than 'evil spawn of hell.'" Sam replied.

"Would this not conflict with your theory on entropic cascade failure?" Teal'c asked.

"No. Entropic cascade failure takes place when moving between realities, not dimensions. Dimensions are attached to a particular reality, meaning a separate reality has entirely separate dimensions as well and—," Sam began, but was cut off.

"Enough, please," Jack said before prompting again, "Illyria?"

"One thing at a time, Jack. Illyria likely knows just about everything she needs to. Buffy said that for all her arrogance, she really is an extremely brilliant...creature. One who still retains Fred's memories and grasp of physics. Given what else we know about the Old Ones, it's likely that Illyria's understanding of physics probably transcends our own by light years. She clearly knew of the Ancients, at least to some extent, given her knowledge of the ' _Astria Porta_ '," Daniel said with a raised eyebrow.

Sam nodded slowly.

Teal'c's brows furrowed. "Do we know how it is that Illyria knows of the Ancients and presumably the other three Great Races? Or how they know of her, individually?"

Daniel opened his mouth to respond then stopped. "No. We don't."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Teal'c said with great solemnity.

Jack glared at him. And at his hair.

* * *

 **October 27th, 2005**

Major Paul Davis looked straight ahead as he walked towards the castle's main entrance on the paved street. Duart Castle was impressive, he acknowledged, made even more so by the numerous unseen eyes that he felt watching his every movement.

He felt ridiculous, wearing his class A dress blues and holding the silver disk that Thor had given to him that would contain the message to the Old One. He didn't even have the comforting weight of his service pistol at his side and he felt like he could really use that comfort right about now. His shoulders itched at the weight of those unseen eyes. He passed under a small castle gate sans portcullis and found himself at a set of wooden doors. He straightened and took off his flight cap, tucking it under his belt on the left side of his body. Regs were important, even when facing down a horde of terrifying teenage girls who could rip his limbs off with their flawlessly manicured hands.

A single knock on the door left him faced with that horde. About six girls, all looking well under 18, stared at him with a mix of curiosity, worry, aggression, fear, and interest. He wasn't sure which of the latter three worried him most. "Hello, I'm Major Paul Davis of the United States Air Force, could I please speak to Rupert Giles, Xander Harris, or Angel?"

The mix of emotions seemed to swing towards the aggression scale.

"I'm here on behalf of Faith Lehane," he added, hopefully.

The emotions swung towards curiosity. That, he could work with. A redhead, one of those that had showed interest, stepped forward. "Hi Paul, I'm Leah. Giles and Angel aren't around right now, but I can get Xander if you'd like?"

Davis twitched at the familiar use of his name. "That would be great, thanks."

"XANDER!"

Paul cringed at Leah's shrill scream. The other girls looked amused and eventually backed away from the door to reveal an older man. He wore brown work boots, denim jeans, and a long-sleeved grey shirt. The most distinctive identifying trait was the black eyepatch that covered his left eye.

"You bellowed?" he asked, talking to Leah but not looking away from Paul.

"Army guy wants to talk to you," Leah said, smiling sweetly.

Paul nodded his head. "Major Paul Davis, US Air Force."

Xander gave him a searching look. "Faith?"

Paul made a waffling motion with his hand. "I'm here on behalf of her, sort of."

Xander's mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile. "Complicated?"

"Yes," Paul said, relieved to be understood.

"I know a place we can talk privately," Xander stated and left the door open without any invitation.

Paul understood, Faith having told him of the practice in the early days of their relationship, though he pitied any vampire that tried to enter _this_ place. He stepped over the threshold and followed the younger man, going up a set of stairs and through several hallways before they ended up in front of a nondescript wooden door.

Xander noticed his curious look. "Living with a gaggle of Slayers-in-Training teaches you a few things, like the value of privacy and how to maintain it. If you know of us, and presumably Willow, then you'll understand that she made this room private."

Paul nodded. "I understand. I'm not afraid to say magic, Mr. Harris, I knew of that world even before I met Faith."

"Please, call me Xander." Xander opened the door and let him enter first. It wasn't a fancy room. A large table surrounded by comfortable looking chairs and a couch in one of the corners of the room. "So you were with Faith for a while, right? She said you were a good man."

Paul nodded. "Faith is an interesting person, and a good one too." The last bit had a little edge on it, and Paul inwardly winced. But Xander just held up his hands.

"We all made stupid mistakes, Major, didn't mean to stir anything up."

"I know," Paul acknowledged, "my apologies as well."

"Why are you here, Major Davis? It didn't sound like something was wrong with her but..." Xander trailed off, looking expectantly at him.

"I'm aware that you are one of the few here who is aware of _my_ world. About the Stargate," Paul said, getting a nod from the younger man. "There has been a development and its one that..." he floundered for a second. "My duties in the Air Force are to act as a liaison with the Stargate program and the Pentagon. I'm here in a similar capacity but with different parties involved."

Xander looked confused.

Paul gritted his teeth. "With Illyria."

Xander's eyes went wide and was speechless for a moment. Paul decided to continue. "Apparently one of the most advanced races in the galaxy keeps an eye on the Deeper Well and discovered that there had been a breach."

"Illyria," Xander said, understanding.

"One of the _other_ most advanced races in the galaxy then came here and spoke with Faith about that breach. That other race is trying to determine whether they and the various other advanced races need to come here and get involved."

"Which would be bad."

"Not necessarily bad," Paul corrected, "but certainly messy and _possibly_ bad. Faith is working to arrange a meeting with Illyria to avoid that."

Xander leaned back in his chair, mouth pursed in thought. "Coming in your blues to flatter her?"

"Yes."

"Faith's idea?"

"Yes."

"Smart girl," Xander said with the faintest of smiles. "It won't hurt your case, don't know if it will help though either. I can take you to Illyria now, if you like, but trying to convince her to _do_ anything is kinda like herding cats. Cats that can punch a hole through your body." He paused and then winced. "She might also not react at all to your presence."

"What do you mean?" Paul asked.

Xander cringed. "She's been staring at a ficus for the last..." The carpenter looked at his watch, "well over 24 hours now."

Major Davis just closed his eyes and shook his head.

Xander gave him a sympathetic look. "Well, no time like the present."

Paul followed him out back into the castle halls.

#

She heard it.

For the first time in so very long, Illyria heard the Song of the Green. It wasn't just the song which satisfied her, it was the knowledge that while her powers may have been depleted, but they were not altogether gone. And that those powers might be slowly returning. A small smile came to her lips. She wasn't sure what would happen when she regained her strength and the uncertainty annoyed her. The smile disappeared.

Illyria knew that she'd never be as powerful as she once was, not even close. This pathetic shell wasn't capable of handling that sort of power but evidently it could handle _more_ than it currently contained. But gaining even a measure of her former power would put her in a position to begin reclaiming her empire, to rebuild that which was once hers. Except...

Winifred Burkle's humanity was a disease that lingered inside her. Festered and plagued her with doubts and inconvenient feelings. It was a disease she was unable to cure and that, like the uncertainty, also annoyed her.

If she didn't reclaim her empire, she also didn't think she could continue as she did now. Living among the muck fighting things that were even less impressive than they. She was obsolete and that was intolerable.

"Illyria."

Illyria ignored the one-eyed man and continued to listen to the quiet, almost silent Song of the Green. It had been so long...

"Illyria."

She lost her grasp on the song. She clenched her fists. She felt like ripping out the boy's other eye for his insolence, but Illyria knew that he was valuable to the others. That his value to the agents of the Powers that Be was great enough for Caleb of the First Evil to take a special interest in him.

Illyria closed her eyes and turned around, now wearing the face of Winifred Burkle. There were two men in front of her. The one-eyed man and another who was dressed...oddly. Formally, perhaps, it looked like an attempt at making a uniform at least.

"Hey y'all!"

#

Paul had watched the woman as they approached her. She hadn't looked like Fred, not in the ways it mattered, at least. She was as Faith had described but Faith hadn't done enough justice to describing how...cold the Old One looked. The red leather, as Faith had described it, looked more like a carapace. Her eyes were a solid blue but for the blackness of the iris in the center.

Xander's second attempt at acquiring the Old One's attention and Paul watched as the creature's form began to change as she turned around. By the time Illyria was fully facing them, it wasn't Illyria anymore, it was Fred.

"Hey y'all!"

But it wasn't Fred, and he knew it. The words and the tone made him shudder at the knowledge of what had truly happened to Fred. He was aware that Illyria herself wasn't responsible for what happened to Fred, not directly at least, but he had to take a deep breath to keep himself from getting angry as he looked at the innocent, human face that had been belonged to a friend of so many.

"Illyria, this is Major Paul Davis of the United States Air Force. He wished to speak with you," Xander said. He didn't say this slowly as if talking to an idiot, but he did seem to put emphasis on certain words.

"Of course, I'd be happy to help," Illyria said in a pleasant southern twang.

"It is an honor to meet you, Illyria," Major Davis said with a small bow. "Faith Lehane has spoken of you and your kind before, I know that it is a rarity for one such as I to stand in front of one such as you."

"You seek to flatter me," Illyria said in a flat voice.

"Yes," Paul replied simply.

Illyria cocked her head and studied him. Paul idly noticed that she did so in a manner that was somewhat reminiscent of Thor. It was the alienness of it, he decided, that made it seem so.

"You represent your country's legions and mention the Slayer. What is it that brings you before me?" she asked, her voice still cool.

Paul thought quickly. "Can we speak here without being overheard by others? Or can we speak in the room Xander said had been spelled?"

"We are alone, but for Xander. The other Slayers won't bother me for now."

"She broke Renee's arm earlier," Xander explained to Paul quietly, and not without a little anger.

Illyria ignored him

Paul slowly extended the silver disk Thor had handed him. Illyria studied him for a moment before studying the disk and eventually taking it from his hand. There was an unfamiliar language imprinted on the disk, Paul had noticed, and she was clearly capable of reading it. The Old One smiled. It didn't make him feel any better.

Illyria changed again, her form morphing to reveal a face that reminded him nothing of the pictures he'd seen of Fred other than the shape and length of hair. The moment she completed her change and pressed her thumb into the middle, the disk began to emit a soft yellow glow. An image sprang from the disk, a wall of text in yet another unfamiliar language shown in a blue light that hovered in the air in front of her.

"Know what it says?" Xander asked him.

"Nope."

It took about ten minutes for Illyria to complete her study of the message at which point she reverted back to the form of Fred. "Well now, this is gonna be fun!" she said with that deep southern accent, smiling all the while.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** There were a few points in this story where information was repeated. I tried my best to avoid having to repeat whole segments by adding scene breaks, so I hope that didn't throw anyone off. Also boom, once again I am passing my previous record making this the longest chapter I've ever written. I actually wanted to include the meeting in this chapter, but I thought that might make the chapter a little too eventful not to mention far longer. This way I can also add in some time between this scene and the actual meeting, providing some necessary time for Faith to teach Buffy more about the 'final frontier' and all that other filler crap.

Illyria and her powers: I didn't like Illyria just being sort of an overpowered demon, but I didn't want her all uber God-King either. I wanted a better balance that would provide her not just the physical strengths she already possessed, but at least _some_ of the powers she once had. She won't be getting any time related powers, or teleportation, or the other ridiculous ones, but some of the small ones...maybe.  
I also liked the idea of her studying the ficus as being a form of meditation. In the SG universe, some beings managed to Ascend simply because of their continuous meditation and I liked her being able to emulate that to some extent.

If you didn't catch the Blues Brothers reference, shame on you.


	17. Land of the Ice and Snow

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Seven**

 _ **Land of the Ice and Snow**_

* * *

 **Important Story Notes:** Alright, so I'm having to go back and make a few changes regarding the time frame. This includes tossing out a few dates to help tie events together. I figure adding "three days later" doesn't mean much without any kind of previous reference.

I'll also be correcting any references I've made about whether Buffy or Faith were older. _Faith_ is in fact the older Slayer. Faith being born on December 14, 1980 while Buffy was born in January 19, 1981. Calling Buffy the older Slayer is true, but making that sort of technicality seems kind of lame. I'm now combing through the story searching for older girl/younger girl | older Slayer/younger Slayer references. Feel free to point them out so I can adjust it to be more accurate.

 **Sorentia:** I'm glad that I was successful in conveying Buffy's attitude towards firearms. Keep in mind however, that "viable weaponry" has the potential to be a very different arena when fighting aliens. Throwing an axe at a target 25-50 meters away isn't really all that practical (and likely only possible for a Slayer) when a pistol can hit harder and faster at an even greater range. In close quarters combat, that isn't the case, but in any open field Buffy's greatest strengths would be greatly diminished which is why Buffy might want to learn more about them/how to use them.  
Whistler's origins weren't really discussed until the comics where, as you said, it was revealed that he was the offspring of a union between one of the _agents_ of the Powers that Be and a pure-breed demon. The parents were both killed for their union and the child only survive because the PtBs had a use for him as an agent to help maintain the balance. I don't believe that the mother was actually an Old One, though. All of the Old Ones were pure-breed demons, but not all pure-breed demons were Old Ones, right? (Consider the Scourge from Angel season 1) I don't believe he was ever actually called a "Balance Demon" and to most of the supernatural world he was closer to an abomination. I like the idea of him being a little more woo-woo mystical than he really was and I did _not_ like that he went sort of evil and/or crazy.  
 **HowlnMadHowie:** Don't forget that in the first part of the story, Major Davis had tried to get Wesley and Faith to sign NDAs, both of whom refused to do so. Access was granted to them anyway because of international pressure resulting from their ties to the British government (Watcher's Council and Giles's visit to England to recover WC accounts) I also believe I stated that Buffy already had a high enough clearance level to enter the base without causing undue fuss. Yes, I used the Initiative trope to explain that.

 **Author's Notes:** Alright folks, a bit of a heads up. There are likely going to be a few 'huh?' moments for you as well as a completely different timeline for the history of the Ancients presented to you. Just bear with me and I'll try to explain my reasoning and fill in the blanks. At the end of the chapter I'm going to lay out the details of the canon timeline, how I'd change the timeline, and how it interacts with BtVS mythology.

As a side note: Brigadier Generals are addressed as "General" which I discovered when I became annoyed when trying to write people addressing Jack as "Brigadier General." Anyhow, enjoy the chapter!

* * *

#

 **November 10th, 2005**

"B...you're doing it wrong," Faith said, trying not to smile. She was laying on her back in Monument Park, looking up into Buffy's green eyes.

"It's hard, okay, I need more practice," Buffy said, pouting.

"I don't believe tongue is generally required for practicing CPR," Faith said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

Buffy looked unrepentant. "Practice," she repeated.

Faith rolled her eyes. It had been two weeks since Faith had begun working with Buffy to get her up to speed as quickly as possible. Two weeks since Paul delivered Thor's message to Illyria. And Thor was meeting with Illyria in three days using the plan Sam had presented in General O'Neill's office. Illyria had been curious about seeing the Ancient outpost, which in itself had caused second guessing about whether or not to let her wander around the Ancient ruins even sans Stargate. In the end, it was deemed the best solution. Dr. Weir had been agreeable enough that she was willing to have her people moved, temporarily, to McMurdo Air Force Base. The "temporarily" aspect had been heavily emphasized, according to Jack.

The delay was mostly about bureaucracy, as Faith understood. Getting the right people's approval to make it all happen. Pendergast, for example, hadn't been all that cheerful about the prospect of bringing unknown civilians onboard, not with the first launch of the _Prometheus_ still fresh in his mind.

So Faith had used the spare time to good use by catching Buffy up on "space things" even as their relationship continued to develop. Teaching Buffy innocuous things like military rankings, slang, and acronyms which weren't strictly _necessary_ , but certainly helpful if she were to find herself surrounded by trained, disciplined military personnel. As it turned out, Riley _had_ managed to teach her _some_ of those things already, which gave her a bit of a leg up. Jessica McLeod, at Faith's request, had taken Buffy to a shooting range to teach her about firearms and required maintenance while Faith tried to figure out a lesson plan of some sort.

Faith had taken two years to learn all...this. Now she had to figure out a way to cram it into a much shorter period of time because she had a feeling that they were getting close to getting gone and "a demon had a vision" didn't make for a convincing argument for being allowed to go off-world. After the guns, which Buffy still didn't like but seemed to have come to terms with, Faith had taken Boyd's advice in furthering Buffy's skillset.

 _"Teach her what she needs to know to survive."_ The leader of SG-10 hadn't asked any questions about why Buffy might need to know such things; damn if the man wasn't a saint.

When she thought about it, about what Buffy might need, she'd decided to use what she had learned about marine boot camp to use as a sort of guide. Marine boot camp was almost three months long, three months of harsh physical training, mental conditioning, water survival, combat training, and other more specific skills. Buffy didn't need to know the history and traditions of the Corps and physical and mental conditioning wouldn't do too much for the blonde either. Frankly, she already had enough mental fortitude and any discipline issues she might have were as much a product of Slayer instincts as anything else. In the end, even putting aside Buffy's physical abilities as a Slayer, she would finish with a much more diverse, practical, and expansive skillset than most cadets would ever leave the crucible with. Such a claim had been a major selling point as far as Jack was concerned, a claim that could be easily substantiated with the same battery of tests Faith had undertaken.

Another advantage Buffy possessed was more formal education than she herself had, and the blonde had already proven with her SAT scores that she was extraordinarily bright. However, Faith knew about survival, she knew a great deal about survival. Not just survival in the wilderness, but on the streets, and it was the kind of survival which bred an attitude one didn't develop in the warm bosom of a suburb, one that had to be called upon from time to time. Faith had put Buffy through the paces with a three day long hike through the Rocky Mountains on Long's Peak, a trek that encompassed wilderness and winter survival skills, especially in late November. All the while, Faith was telling Buffy everything she could think of about the Goa'uld, the Asgard, Ra, Anubis, Loki...everything she could recall being told. There was still an uncertainty about how their two worlds meshed, but Faith did the best she could to mash it together into something that made sense, although Thor's familiarity with the Old Ones had raised a new bunch of questions that would hopefully be answered soon.

A few days of rest had given time for Faith to teach Buffy a few words in several different languages that might possibly be helpful as well. Faith had then run her through a crash course on orienteering through a nice walk in the eastern plains of Colorado. As it turns out, Buffy was absolute rubbish at orienteering, to the point where it was actually embarrassing. Buffy had been uber pissed at her when she'd allowed Buffy to direct them 15 miles in the _opposite_ direction of where they were supposed to be headed. Twice.

Either way, she had a crash course of survival training and were covering some of the other basics, like CPR. Buffy liked CPR, apparently. Their relationship hadn't progressed much further than it had two weeks ago, still limited to kisses and even a few make-out sessions, but it was just a matter of time before they took the next step. Faith wasn't sure if they'd waited because they were expecting the other shoe to drop that would doom them or if it was something else. But for now, it was okay. It was more than okay.

Buffy sighed and sat down on the couch, face only showing a hint of the sunburn she'd acquired after their long walk. "I'm tired."

It was more of a whine than it was a declaration or statement and Faith smiled at the petulant tone. "You can rest for a bit, but you have more stuff to do later."

Buffy gave her wide eyes. "What? Aren't I done yet?"

Faith laughed, which made Buffy's face drop. "Sam's coming over later; gonna get yourself an intro to physics and Stargates and the other crap I still don't understand. She's a really good tutor but you better strap in, she'll ride you pretty hard." The perfect word choice and just the right emphasis and...

Buffy blushed. "Stop it. That is _not_ funny. I can't look at her after you say stuff like that."

Faith smiled and gestured to herself with a slow, regal sweep of her hand. "One day, lad. All this will be yours."

"What?"

Faith lost the smile. "Seriously? We watched Monty Python in _prison,_ how have you not seen it?"

Buffy shrugged.

"We'll add that to list of things to do," Faith said authoritatively.

The older brunette watched with a small smile as the blonde Slayer seemed to fold into herself and closed her eye. Buffy pouted and murmured a quiet, "I'm tired."

Buffy was exhausted, Faith could tell, it was in the lethargy she displayed now and the stiffness of her movements.. A Slayer could only take so much and the only reason Faith wasn't in the same state was because she'd been working up to this for two years. After closing her eyes, the blonde had fallen asleep almost instantly. Faith watched her for a moment before quietly leaving the room to ask Sam to hold off on her lesson with Buffy for an hour. Buffy had earned that nap.

* * *

It wouldn't be long now.

Illyria closed her eyes. It had been so long since she'd last encountered one of the Asgard, but she could still remember impaling it with one of her tentacles and feeding it to one of her generals. Those had been better times, times when she would not have to _deal_ and come to an _agreement_ with the mortal creatures. A time that was no longer hers.

She knew that this meeting would have a far different subtext to it than previous ones she may have had in the past and knew that the Asgard would be there to 'judge' her in some fashion. She was not overly concerned. The Furlings and the Nox wouldn't seek conflict and she had done nothing yet to warrant their active involvement. The Alterans were gone and the Asgard...well they were the race that Illyria was unsure of. It had been _so_ long.

She was...excited, Illyria realized. Excited to encounter someone that knew of her true self and had gone to such lengths to arrange a meeting. It spoke of respect and the muck about her were sorely lacking in that.

The excitement was a product of the humanity inside her, she knew, for if she had not been infected, her sole desire would have been to destroy this Asgard, to eviscerate this member of one of the species that had helped destroy or entomb her own. Yet despite the crippling weakness of humanity she had regained the ability to hear the Song, to some extent at least. She did not know what that meant, but she knew that she was changing in both power and spirit. Her shell had not changed or placed additional constrains upon her, but the infection grew and yet...so did her power. It seemed incongruous but it was undeniable. It was something to be studied at another time.

Illyria thought the meeting place an apt one. Seeing even the remains of an abandoned Alteran outpost would be...gratifying. She did not like having to rely on the muck to be transported there but she liked the idea of relying on this...Thor even less. She admitted to herself that it was intriguing that the muck had been able to utilize and integrate technology clearly superior to their own and mold it into a viable method of warring against the Furlings' pathetic chosen caretakers. She was unsure if this human capability to integrate the Alteran's technology into their own made them scavengers, seeking the best scraps from the bones of their ancestors, or if it meant that they possessed a level of innovation that she had not been aware of.

She had been unsure of why these muck would hide such advances from their own kind. Perhaps a prelude to warfare against their own king? A coup to take power for their own? Xander Harris had said neither, that they didn't want the rest of the humans to react like they would if they found out demons existed.

It was strange how a single human like Xander could be rational, almost intelligent even, yet a group of individuals of the same species would somehow degenerate into a mass of unintelligent, fearful, bleating sheep. When she mentioned this, he had smiled and asked if she'd gotten that from a movie. She had threatened to disembowel him for his mockery.

It wouldn't be long now before the two eldest Slayers would arrive to serve as her guides and escorts. She had never met either of them, though the shell possessed a few memories of the one they call 'Faith.' The few memories the shell possessed indicated that she behaved in a manner reminiscent of Spike in some respects. Her presence shouldn't be unbearable and that her acquaintances included the Asgard and the muck that had access to their own Astria Porta was...intriguing and presented new possibilities.

* * *

 **November 11th, 2005**

"No."

"Faith!"

"No!"

"C'mon, she can't be _that_ bad."

"Yes, she _is_ that bad, Jack. And _you're_ the kind of person who will needle and mock her, which would be..." Faith searched for the right words.

"Of the bad," Buffy supplied. Faith vigorously nodded her agreement.

"You'll protect me though, and Thor will be there!" Jack whined.

"Jack, I need you to understand this: we _can't_ protect you from Illyria, not even when she is so 'weak and pathetic'," Faith said gravely.

"I don't know Thor really but you should keep in mind how tip-toe-y he's being. I mean, this is the guy who has no compunction about spontaneously beaming people up to the mothership, right? You should be wondering why he won't do the same for her," Buffy said with crossed arms.

"He could protect you, but you would be a disruption...which would be bad," Faith said, meeting Jack's narrowed eyes.

"I wanted to meet her," Jack complained, "and that's _General_ Jack O'Neill to you, young ladies."

Buffy smirked while Faith rolled her eyes. " _Jack_ ," the brunette said, "you don't want to meet her. What you want is to go poke her with a stick."

"Sounds about right," a smirking Sam said.

SG-1, the two Slayers, and Major Davis were ensconced in the conference room at the SGC. It was Buffy's first visit and her reaction to the Stargate had made Jack laugh.

 _"These Ancient guys turned a metal circle with stick figures dawn on it into an interstellar travel thing-y?"_

At their request, Thor and Illyria had allowed the humans to send an observer to the meeting as Faith and Buffy were apparently enjoying a unique status in the eyes of the Asgard and the Old One that didn't count them as human. No one was quite sure what to say to that, but Jack had been the first to put his name forward.

"Not Teal'c," Faith said. "No offense big guy, but I'm pretty sure you'll offend Illyria with your presence." She made a gesture to Teal'c's stomach as elaboration.

Teal'c raised a brow but said nothing.

"This seems like an absurd amount of trouble to appease someone who 'ain't all that' anymore," Jack said.

"It is," Faith agreed. "I think Thor is freaked. If he knows anything about her old self, then he'd _have_ to be freaked. And I bet he has this image of the rest of the Old Ones being freed by Illyria just stuck in that big noggin of his."

"I'm willing to go," Major Davis stated in the ensuing quiet. "I've met her before."

"Dr. Jackson should go."

Everyone turned to Buffy at her statement.

Buffy looked unsure of herself but mustered on. "Dr. Jackson...from what Faith has said and from what I've seen, you're one of the more open-minded individuals around. You've directly interacted with two of the big races Thor mentioned which I think might help with the whole perspective thing." She paused for a moment before continuing softly. "Faith also said that you ascended and interacted with the Ancients. That might mean something to her as well."

"Something good or something bad?" Sam asked.

Buffy shrugged and all the eyes in the room were now on Daniel.

The archaeologist rubbed his chin in thought. "I'm really not supposed to do or say anything, right? Just shut up and look pretty?"

Faith smiled sweetly at him. "Daniel, you're _always_ pretty."

Daniel blushed.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but Illyria...she's not _Evil_. I kinda think you've gained that impression. But she's not, Evil I mean, the Old Ones, from what I know, were brutal and violent and constantly at war with one another. They were cruel and ruthless but they weren't _Evil._ Not all of them, at least. Giles told me that it was more accurate to say that the Old Ones were kinda like elementals, ya know? Forces of nature. They might have done terrible, horrific things from our perspective but those things probably didn't even register to them."

Jack glared at her. "That isn't making me feel any better."

"No, but it's an interesting perspective on these Old Ones," Daniel murmured.

"I think _you_ should go," Buffy repeated.

Major Davis and the members of SG-1 exchanged looks before Jack and Daniel finally nodded.

* * *

 **November 13th, 2005**

"That was neat," Buffy commented as the rings that transporter her aboard the _Prometheus_ left their sight.

"Yeah, gotta say it's a lot more interesting than the ol' 'beam me up, Scotty'," Faith agreed.

A male voice cut through their chatter, focusing their attention on the man that had been waiting for them. "Dr. Jackson, pleasure to meet you, I'm Colonel Lionel Pendergast, welcome aboard the _Prometheus."_

"Thank you, Colonel. Are you ready to send us to our next destination?"

"We are. We're expecting an additional visitor as well?"

Daniel nodded.

Faith's nose suddenly scrunched up. "Hey, who's that?" She was pointing at a man holding a tablet while speaking with another crewmember.

Pendergast glanced behind him then gave Faith a confused look. "That's my XO, Colonel Kirkland, why?"

Faith shrugged, "Ah, nothin'. Just really looks like Major Henry Boyd from SG-10."

Buffy narrowed her eyes then nodded. "He really does."

Daniel and Pendergast gave them blank looks.

"Nevermind, ready to rock when you are, DJ," Faith said with a smile.

#

"Well that's nifty."

Daniel and the two Slayers looked to see a smiling Xander standing nearby from where they had been beamed down to.

"It is, isn't it?" Buffy said with a soft smile before walking up to the man and giving him a big hug. "How are you?"

"Good, good." Xander nodded towards Daniel. "Hi, I'm Xander Harris. Rumor is that you're here to collect Illyria."

"Yes, hi. I'm Dr. Jackson, I—"

"The blusher!" Xander crowed. "You're the guy that Faith loves tormenting!"

Daniel blushed.

Faith smiled, "Hey Xander."

"Faith," Xander acknowledged. The greeting held warmth but was still somewhat tense even after all this time. Out of all the Scoobies, he was probably the one that held onto grudges the longest.

"Come on," Xander said, leading the, to the castle that stood maybe half a mile away. "I gotta say, I'm pretty thrilled you're taking Blue Thunder out of here, even if it's just for a short time."

"Something else happen?" Buffy asked.

"Not exactly. Renee will be fine in a little while, it's just that..." Xander hesitated.

"Yes?" Faith drew the word out, trying to coax an answer from the one-eyed man.

"It's just that ever since Major Davis came by, well, when she's not staring at the ficus, she's...smiling."

Daniel looked confused while his two companions looked somewhat panicked. "I don't get it."

"We're talking about a being who has show little interest in anything. Her current hobbies are staring at plants and inventing new ways of murdering someone's face off," Xander replied. "I see her smiling and I keep expecting the next room I walk into to be filled with bodies and painted with blood."

The others stared at him.

"Okay, maybe it's not _that_ bad. But it's creepy as hell," Xander allowed. "Even Angel has been keeping his distance."

"Hey y'all!"

The voice startled the quartet and Daniel looked ahead of them to see a smiling brunette in a white dress walking out of the archway at the entrance to the castle. She was slender, maybe a few inches taller than Faith. He hadn't really thought that this terrifying, powerful, ancient being could truly resemble a human, not even after all his experience with the Goa'uld. Yet this...Old One not only resembled a human, it was able to impersonate one uncomfortably well.

"We ready to get a move on or what?" 'Fred' asked again with that dazzling smile.

"See," Xander whispered, "creepy."

Daniel nodded as the Old One joined their small party. "Hello Illyria, I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson."

"Well that's swell," The Old One said cheerfully.

Xander shuddered. "Alright, I'm heading back. Good luck to all of you. Please don't kill anyone, Illyria."

The being who resembled Fred said nothing. She just smiled. She looked at him and tilted her head. Her voice, when it came again, had lost the southern twang and had become flat and cold. "You are human, but...you have been something else, too."

Daniel didn't quite know what to say to _that_ but Illyria continued after just a few seconds. Her eyes seemed to become bluer as she stepped closer to him, studying him. He noted that her lips had acquired a bluish tint as well.

"You stink of the Alterans."

Then she was gone, humming as she walked back the way they'd come. He looked at Buffy and Faith, both of whom looked tense. "Alteran?"

"No idea," they said in unison.

"Wow," Daniel said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, Big Blue is a whole bottle of that," Faith muttered.

#

"Now wasn't that just fun," Illyria drawled after they had been transported back onto the _Prometheus._

Once again, Colonel Pendergast was there to greet them. "Hello, ma'am, I'm Colonel Pendergast, the commanding officer of this ship." The man extended a hand.

Daniel felt like shouting at the guy to keep his hand to himself. Instead, Illyria smiled at him and took his hand in a gentle shake. She had dimples, Daniel noted idly.

"Hi there Colonel. This looks like a fine ship if I say so myself."

Daniel saw the man classify Illyria as a non-threat and re-classify as an object of potential interest. The quickest way to Captain's heart was through his ship, obviously.

"It is ma'am. How would you like to get a better view?" The Colonel said with an inviting smile.

"Well I'd just be delighted, Colonel." Illyria looped her arm around Pendergast's proffered elbow.

Before Daniel could suggest otherwise, the Colonel escorted the Old One to the viewport. He looked at Buffy and Faith, his eyes seeking their advice.

"We wait for her to finish her tour or whatever," Buffy, "and then we'll do the ring thing."

"And hope to god that Colonel Charming over there doesn't try to play grab-ass," Faith said with more cynicism. She sighed and put down the pack she had been carrying. "Might as well get this crap out," she muttered as she began rooting through its contents.

Faith took out two pars of gloves, beanies with attached balaclavas, and two fleece jackets. She handed one of each to Buffy who, like her, was already wearing a pair of winter boots. Faith noticed Buffy's sour expression and asked,"what?"

Buffy motioned to her shoes, the jacket, and the gloves.

Faith stared at her in confusion.

Buffy huffed. "They don't match!"

Daniel snorted and moved forward to catch up to their errant Old One and her would-be suitor. As he approached the viewport, he glanced briefly behind to catch sight of Faith and Buffy still bickering even as they held hands.

#

The moment they were back on terra firma, Illyria...changed. The blue eyes and lips he'd glimpsed earlier were back in full force. They were now accompanied by blue streaks that ran through her hair and her clothes more closely resembled red armor, all just as Buffy had described. It was almost a relief though to see her like this instead of presenting the face of humanity. It was still disturbing, how could it not be? but it was a different, more tolerable type of disturbing. She reminded him of the Nox, he realized., the otherworldliness of her that was so compelling. Except the Nox were peaceful, supposedly, while Illyria appeared to be just the opposite.

They descended into the base by lift and soon found themselves in the same chamber that the beta Stargate had once been stationed. Illyria spent a few moments studying the room and seemed to study the area the Stargate had once occupied. The various research stations and experiments that had occupied this area were now either neatly organized against the walls of the chamber or had been moved to McMurdo. The space was now taken by a large, rectangular, metal table and five slightly more impressive chairs that looked warm enough to sit in that you didn't have to worry about leaving your ass behind when you tried to stand up. That being said, Daniel was willing to wager that Thor was bringing his own chair.

"There was once an Astria Porta at this outpost," Illyria murmured before taking a seat at one head of the table, staring straight ahead, unblinking, and absolutely still. Buffy and Faith say on one side of the table while Daniel took the other. Daniel opened to ask how she knew that but was interrupted by a bright flash of light that erupted within the room.

On the opposite head of the table in his throne-like chair sat Thor, short and grey as ever. The chair that had been set out for him was gone, Daniel noted almost absentmindedly.

"Aren't you cold?!" Buffy blurted out.

It was Illyria who answered the question, not bothering to look at Buffy as she did so. "His people are sufficiently advanced that they do not require the skins and furs of lesser creatures to retain their warmth." There was an implied "unlike some other weak and pathetic race that disgraces this place with their presence" attached to that statement.

Thor just nodded and stared at Illyria, who gave Thor the same measuring look.

"You are not as you once were," Illyria finally said after a minute.

"By all accounts," Thor retorted, "neither are you."

Illyria nodded.

"The Nox were alerted to a breach in the Deeper Well. After a few days, when no signs indicated one of your kind was loose on the world, the matter was not given a high priority for investigation. You have been on this world for several years now, yet you've kept your presence minimal. However, you still possess the power to cause great destruction. What is it that you intend, God-King of the Primordium?"

Illyria studied the Asgard but said nothing.

"Is it your intention to release your brethren?" Thor tried again.

"No," came the immediate reply.

It was Thor's turn to consider the other being's spoken and unspoken words. "Your kind does not tolerate weakness well."

"They would kill me," Illyria agreed with a calm certainty.

Daniel thought the Asgard looked tense, something which Daniel found entire discomforting.

Illyria was silent again.

"It is not only for myself and the Asgard that I ask, Old One. It is...difficult to rouse the Nox and the Furlings, but they will come if they must."

Daniel saw Buffy and Faith making "stop it!" gestures at Thor, but they were lost on the Asgard. Daniel didn't understand why until he saw the metal table crumple under one of Illyria's hands.

"You would threaten me, Asgard? There are no others of my kind you can convince to betray me. There are no more ready to fight and die for your alliance. And the power of the _Great Four Races_ is no more," she sneered at the mention of the four races and continued without taking a breath, "and _you_ , Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet, threaten _me!"_

"I have asked what you intend and you will not answer. Is that not a threat in itself? The others will believe it so."

The room felt cold and suffocating in the face of Illyria's anger, but to his credit, Thor did not retreat from it.

"I think your people must have have forgotten much about my kind if you think that an Old One can be trifled with so indiscriminately. You have clearly forgotten what even _one_ of my kind is capable of." Illyria smiled. "Was it not Azogg-Mon who destroyed the reptiles that preceded the Alteran's arrival to this world simply because he felt they mocked his appearance? Was it not Vrill who created the plague which first drove the Alterans away from this world? And Arsgomor who left so many of your ships shattered and littering the stars with their broken husks? Even the vampires that exist to this very day are a result of Maloker's manipulation, are they not? You presume far too much, Asgard."

Daniel opened his mouth, possibly to ask if Illyria had just said that an Old One had wiped out the dinosaurs or possibly to point out that those Old Ones she spoke of were presumably at the _height_ of their power. Faith kicked his shin, hard, and he shut his mouth with audible click.

"We have not forgotten, Illyria," Thor said, almost gently. "But you are not them and you no longer have such power."

Illyria didn't blow up like Daniel and, apparently the two Slayers expected. Instead the Old One extended her clenched fist over the table and slowly opened her hand. Several tiny objects fell from her hand to land on the tabletop. Seeds, Daniel realized, three small seeds.

Seeds that began rocking violently before they cracked, releasing tiny green stems which grew and grew until they were at east six inches high. Several small leaves began to unfurl and the tip on all three plants blossomed to reveal themselves as daisies. The whole process took place in just a few brief moments.

"I have lost much power," Illyria agreed, gathering the three flowers to her chest. "And I am not my brethren. But my power is not inconsiderable and that power stems from deep roots. Roots that continue to replenish me. I do not know what I intend, Thor of the Asgard, but the infection of humanity within me has created certain...limitations."

Illyria stood and approached Thor, but stopped when she stood directly behind Faith. The brunette had gone pale at the Illyria's display of power. So had Buffy, Danoel noticed. Illyria had evidently been keeping secrets from all of them. Faith twitched when Illyria's hand settled onto her shoulder. "This one," Illyria announced, "will be my guide. Where she goes, I go."

Faith's pale complexion turned ashen and a loud groan escaped her lips.

"I believe you are well aware that Faith Lehane intends to go off-world in the near future to work with the humans. It is your desire to do likewise then?" Thor asked.

"This world is no longer mine," she replied in answer. "The humans that crawl on it abuse it to the point of self-destruction. I wish more for myself than to be a tool to be wielded against the lesser half-breeds that similarly litter this world." Illyria released Faith and came closer to Thor, who didn't seem pleased at the prospect of being closer to the demon. "I strive for something greater."

The Old One stopped and extended the hand that held the daisies and said in an almost whimsical tone, "this type of flower was the shell's favorite."

Thor slowly accepted the flowers in the awkward silence that followed.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Before anyone says _anything_ , I want you to know that my opening sequence next chapter will go over a lot of the material that was laid out at the end here. I know I just messed with a lot of canon and I'm going to do my best to explain it later in these notes or in the next chapter. All of the Old Ones that Illyria named were taken from canon. I really, really want to give Illyria her best friend Pancakes.

I mentioned the "Furlings pathetic caretakers," which is a reference to the Goa'uld. All Four Races of the Great Alliance left a race to continue their legacy. The Ancients left the Humans, the Furlings the Goa'uld, and the Asgard the Solacris. Nothing, as far as I know, is known of the Nox's choice. The Solacris was a technological solution (in an unknown capacity) that backfired and resulted in crippling the Asgard. The Solacris was also blamed for creating the plague that killed most of the unascended Alterans. There is another theory that the Ancient contagion was also created or manipulated by the Ori, but to my knowledge neither theory has been confirmed

Another bit to mention as far as continuity and canon. In my story, I suggest that Tau'ri are unaware of the Alteran's true name until at least Season 9 of SG-1. They just called them the Ancients until then. This would explain Daniel's confusion at Illyria's use of the word.

The whole training bit with Faith and Buffy was my attempt at a montage. For some reason that " _Montage"_ song from Team America: World Police kept playing in my head when I first started the chapter. Long's Peak is part of a mountain range that is approximately three hours away from Colorado Springs in the Rocky Mountains. It has an average temperature 20-40 degrees below that of Colorado Springs in late November.

Xander and Illyria's unseen interaction regarding a saying Illyria used was a reference to Men in Black with Will Smith and TLJ. Faith's comment about Boyd and the _Prometheus_ 's XO was somewhat entertaining to me because both characters were played by the same actor. True fact.

###

Alright, so I'm going to be committing a bit of murder of the canon regarding the timeline of the Alterans/Humans/Four Great Races. Part of it is because the vast stretches of time and sequence of events makes it very difficult to fit the Old Ones in there.

Here are the timelines and the differences I've envisioned

 **Canon Timeline** (according to Stargate wiki)

50-30 million BC: Alterans arrive at the Milky Way  
30-10 million BC: City ships on earth and elsewhere and the Antarctica outpost exist **(Separate source states that the Alliance of Four Great Races was established at this point when the Stargate network is still being constructed)**  
10-5 million BC: Asgard first start exploring Milky Way, the Ancient contagion kills the Alterans who don't go to the Pegasus galaxy or ascend.  
100,000 BC: First Homo sapiens who are _**not**_ related to the Alterans.  
10,000-8,000 BC: Alterans come back after losing the war against the Wraith. The Alliance of Four Great Races is established. The Alterans either intermix with humans or ascend.

My biggest beef with the canon timeline is the Alliance of Four Great Races. According to the Stargate wiki, it took place when the Alterans came _back_ after getting owned by the Wraith. It makes no sense to me because the Alterans went poof like right after their return (relatively speaking). And why would they even care about an alliance at that point? So I'm going to agree on that separate source about the Alliance existing a _lot_ longer ago than 10,000 BC  
On that note, I also don't like that the Alterans don't come back until 10,000 BC, it works for that canon I guess, but it won't for mine.  
I'm also not all that happy that humans weren't actually descended from the Ancients before 10,000 BC. No, we're an entirely different species that evolved into an identical form on the same planet that the Alterans had settled millions years ago. And could produce viable offspring. Yeah, just a coincidence my ass.

 **My Timeline** (according to me)

20-10 million BC: Alterans move into galaxy, settle onto Dakara and Earth. Atlantis and the other city ships constructed. Stargate network erected.  
10-5 million BC: Alteran presence increases. Old Ones react. The first Slayer is created by the Alterans with the assistance of the Nox and Powers that Be. Ancient contagion released. Alterans ascend or move to the Pegasus galaxy. A small number of Ancients remain, from which the Slayer lineage descends.  
100,000 BC: Alterans return, Alliance of Four Great Races established. War with the Old Ones begins with the aid of the Slayer and the Powers that Be.  
100,000 BC - 10,000 BC: The Old Ones are slowly destroyed, entombed, or driven into other dimensions. The Alterans and the Asgard were primarily responsible for the physical efforts while the PtB, Nox and Furlings provided the method of containment (The Deeper Well).

My timeline in conjunction with BtVS canon:

*The PtB _were_ around at the same time as the Old Ones and had in fact been driven off by them. I don't believe it's a fair stretch of the imagination for them to actively assist in putting the Old Ones into the ground. I believe I read somewhere that the PtB actually were Old Ones, just ones that had a completely mindset than the others. *shrug*  
*The way I see it, the Old Ones didn't really care about the Alterans until they started getting in their way. Even then, I thought the "war" that the Old Ones would wage would be almost lazy given how much time they spent warring amongst themselves. (ie Illyria being ganked by other Old Ones even as their kind was gradually being driven from the world). On that note, I could never buy into the fact that _humans_ were responsible for pushing the Old Ones away. The Giles story says "mortal animals," which I believe does encompass the Four Great Races.  
*I liked the idea of a Vrill using the Old One equivalent of Raid bug spray to make the Alteran pests away, thus the idea that he was responsible for the creation of the plague. Let's face it, dude looks like that kind of creep.  
*I thought it made sense for the Nox to have some sort of role in the Slayer and the Deeper Well given their ability to monitor both. Plus they are obviously the most woo-woo of the Four Races. We still know nothing of the Furlings. Therefore, I'm making them the ambiguous 'helper' dudes.  
*Earth is the central battleground. This will be discussed later in greater detail.  
*I'll get into the whole Slayer lineage thing later.


	18. Wheels in Motion

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Eight**

 _ **Wheels in Motion**_

* * *

 **Chloe:** I _was_ aware of that and I didn't mean to imply that Pendergast was there, but the theft (albeit temporary one) of the United States' first interstellar battlecruiser isn't exactly a small thing and that incident took place only a few years before. It would be something he'd remember when teleporting random civvies onboard.  
 **Rich:** I always thought Buffy was older as well but according to the Buffy wiki, Faith _is_ older by about a month. I think some of confusion is caused by the use of the term "older Slayer." What does that term mean? Is the older Slayer the one who is physically older, or the one who has been Slayer the longest? Buffy was the younger character but has been the Slayer for a longer period of time, thus the confusion. For the story, I've decided to make "older Slayer" apply to age.

 **Author's Notes:** I performed a couple of updates on the last chapter to adding time/dates. A lot of things are gonna be happenin' in this chapter. Wasn't sure if I could/should separate it, but ultimately decided to integrate the different parts of this segment into a single chapter. There was a scene I took directly from SG:A but modified it slightly to work with the story. Enjoy!

* * *

#

 **November 14th, 2005**

"Well, after yesterday everyone seems to be alive and okay. Thor said that the Asgard and the other races won't be getting involved so 'yay', right?"

Daniel shrugged helplessly. "Jack, Illyria..." the archaeologist shook his head, speechless

"Well you gonna make me play 20 questions?"

Sam was currently off-world meeting with her father and the other Tok'ra leaders while Teal'c did the same with Bra'tac and the leaders of the Jaffa rebellion. Both were working to keep the lines of communication open with each other and with Earth. The System Lords had been pushed back with Anubis's defeat, but Ba'al threatened the progress they'd made. Despite knowing they were both performing vital duties, Jack could have used them right about now.

"Jack, even _I'm_ not entirely sure how the meeting went and I was there. As you said, the desired outcome was reached, but there was a lot of subtext and background history that I'm no closer to understanding."

Jack studied him and gave him an exasperated "well get on with it" gesture.

Daniel sighed. "Well Jack, if I understood correctly, we can now state definitively what exactly happened to the dinosaurs."

"What?" Jack asked, confused by the seemingly non sequitur.

"The Old Ones happened to them," Daniel said blandly. "Illyria said their appearance was taken as mockery by _one_ of her kind."

"Huh."

"Illyria also demonstrated her ability to control plants by making daisies grow out of several seeds she'd brought with her."

At that, Jack blinked and raised his eyebrows. "Daisies?"

Daniel looked annoyed. "Compared to nuking the dinosaurs it may not be big, but the fact that Illyria seems to be regaining her powers to an unknown extent is...worrying. Perhaps even more worrying is that neither Buffy nor Faith knew."

Jack pursed his lips. " _Daisies?_ "

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Yes, Jack, daisies and after proclaiming that Faith was to be her guide, Illyria presented them to Thor. Apparently, daisies were 'the shell's' favorite type of flower."

Jack stiffened. It was still hard to imagine this creature walking around in Fred's skin, but that kind of speech really hammered the point in. It was worse than the Goa'uld; with the snakes at least you knew there was a person still inside. To be fair, that could be a burden of its own in the form of presenting the scant hope that the person could one day be freed. But with Fred, with Illyria, she really was just walking in a shell, an empty vessel for her own use. "So the Blue One gave the daisies to Thor and said that they'd been Fred's favorite," Jack repeated, prompting Daniel to continue.

Daniel nodded. "Thor kinda just stared at her for a time that was incredibly awkward for all humans involved. Eventually he nodded and transported himself back to his ship."

"I don't get it," Jack said with an expression of a man trying to figure out the punchline.

"Like I said, subtext. I wasn't sure how to take that, but Buffy suggested to me later that it could be Illyria's way of saying that the 'disease of humanity' within her makes her no threat, but that's just a guess."

Jack hummed in thought for a moment before his eyes narrowed. "What did you mean about Faith now being her 'guide'?" Jack asked, remembering the brief comment.

"Illyria declared that Faith was her new guide. Where Faith goes, she goes. I think there might be something else, but I didn't ask."

Jack groaned. "You know," he said dryly, "things were going _so_ well after you guys and Thor saved my butt."

Daniel ignored him. "Thor suggested that her end goal was to leave the planet; she didn't disagree. I also gained the impression that Thor was not adverse to that possibility."

"And how does _that_ not sound like a bad idea?"

The archaeologist shrugged. "Subtext. But I think it meant that Thor and/or the other races felt Illyria was capable of the greatest amount of destruction here on Earth."

"Because of the Old Ones buried at the center of the world?" Jack inferred.

"Maybe, but I don't think so. Illyria suggested that if her kind were to actually return to the world, they would kill her for her weakness."

"Tough crowd."

"Warring with one another was the height of excitement to these beings. Might be one of the reasons they were able to be defeated or driven away."

"So...other than the buried maybe-not-quite dead Old Ones, why is Earth at the most risk?" Jack asked.

"Not entirely sure, but...I mean think about it. Earth was a hub of Ancient activity in the Milky Way. It was the planet the Slayer was created to defend and home to the Hellmouth or Hellmouths that are _portals_ to this dimension. Think about all the dimensional travel that we ourselves have experienced and about how dimensional travel seems almost common to the supernatural world. From what Faith said, most demons including the Old Ones all came from other dimensions to this one. I wonder if Earth is a sort of nexus, a place where the walls are thinnest between all dimensions. It might explain the presence of the Hellmouth or maybe the Hellmouth might be the cause of it, there's no way to determine that. It wasn't said, but I bet the Old Ones barely even noticed the Ancients till they were on Earth, and probably not even until after they'd gotten underfoot somehow."

Jack shook his head, not in denial so much as the scope of what Daniel was suggesting. "I'll leave the philosophizing on this particular subject to you, Daniel," he said graciously. "So...ass-heart man appeared to have part of his...vision confirmed. Faith wants to travel with SG-10, possibly in the company of the only other Slayer I've met. Who _also_ broke my nose." Jack groaned as he rubbed his temples, "and now the Blue One wants to join in on the action with the possible approval or encouragement of the Asgard."

"You really shouldn't call Illyria that," Daniel said mildly, "and it's Lorne, Jack, his name is Lorne." Daniel smiled at the innocent look he received. "Yeah, I'd say if things continue as they are, Lorne might have called that one pretty well."

"Just one thing," Jack said, holding up a finger for emphasis. "Now we've made the assumption that this place "far away" is off-world. Given who we're all talking about within the context of the Stargate, that seems likely. But _Lorne_ said that they might be gone for a while and you know just as I do that "being gone for a long time" isn't normal for our teams. The way I heard Faith and Buffy describe Lorne's vision, it sounded like months or more likely years, till they came back."

"Yeah, that's been on my mind too," Daniel confessed.

"Speaking of things on my mind," Jack began in a contemplative tone, "I find it interesting that Thor beamed Faith up here two years ago, cluing us into that whole...mess. Almost immediately after her arrival, the former Watcher, Wesley, is able to translate a warning message found on a different planet about the Old Ones. And now, for the first time in who knows how many ages, there is an Old One hanging around again. Tell me that's not some coincidence."

Daniel shrugged. "The Powers move in mysterious ways?"

"I had the same thought," Jack admitted before falling silent for a moment. He made a thoughtful 'hmm' sound before he spoke again,"interesting thing happened this morning before you came in for your debriefing." Jack tapped a pen against the desk, evidently deep in thought. "Weir called from the arctic wastelands to ask for your expertise. She said that your assistance would be appreciated in translating and interpreting recently gathered data about the Ancients and Atlantis."

"Another lead?" Daniel asked, perking up.

" _Maybe_ , another lead. McKay seems to think so but your ability to translate gibberish is needed."

"Alright, I'll go check it out. Call you if I find anything," Daniel said, getting up. He was already on his feet when he paused. "Actually sir, I'm going to take a day or two off before I head there."

Jack waved him off.

Daniel was just walking out of his office when Jack called out, "Daniel, where is Illyria now?"

"Faith is her guide," the archaeologist replied by way of answer, and fled.

Jack digested that for a moment before he snorted. "Taking a day off, my ass."

* * *

 _So, having a houseguest that is unwilling to leave and that I'm incapable of kicking them out is...awkward,_ Faith thought, staring at the Old One from across her small kitchen table. The ancient demon, now once again in the form of Fred, stared back at her. "I don't understand," Faith said at last.

Illyria cocked her head. She may have looked like Fred but she had retained her own speech and mannerisms. "It is not surprising. The muck on this world see little and understand even less. How you have come to dominate the world eludes me."

Faith heard a snort from Buffy, who was in the living room watching re-runs of the Bachelor. God help her, but Faith would rather deal with the Old One than watch _that._

Faith groaned at Illyria's less than helpful response. "Then how about this, why choose _me?_ Is it just a way to get off-world?"

Illyria seemed to consider the question. "It is a factor," she acknowledged, "but not the only one."

"Illyria, please tell me so I can understand," Faith asked. "If I get it then I can probably help you more."

There was an implied "or I can stop you" that Illyria understood. For all the strangeness of the Old One, she was far better at interpreting human behavior than humans themselves. Faith watched Illyria consider her request.

"I wish to leave this world," she repeated, pausing before she continued. "Though I am regaining a measure of my former power, it will be millennia at the very least before I could do so unaided. If I destroyed those humans who protect the Stargate on this world, then the remnants of the Alliance formed ages past would come. They _would_ be able to entomb me once again."

Faith's eyes widened at that. Other than then her frequent rants about her own deficiencies that stem from the fragility of the shell, Illyria would rarely admit such weaknesses to others.

"In that respect, you are the obvious solution," Illyria resumed speaking. "I hate this place that is so alien to me, that bears no resemblance to my kingdom. I hate living on a world overrun by vermin. I hate that my presence has been relegated to that of a common foot soldier with no status of my own. _I hate this place_ ," she finished with a hiss.

"You are a means of leaving, Faith Lehane, but I would not name you my guide for that opportunity alone." Illyria paused and tilted her head to the other side. "The shell's memories of you are few, but they were significant. You are the Chosen One of the Powers that Be, the last to be truly Called. Yet you gave yourself to the service of your enemy. By your kind's pathetic and contradictory moral standards, you committed evil acts. Yet you allowed yourself to be caged, a cage which you could have escaped from at any time. Instead, you remained. It was only when my former guide told you of Angelus's return that you allowed yourself to be unburdened of your shackles. He was a _vampire_ , one who you've attempted to kill before and yet you endangered your life in order to capture him so that you could help him regain his soul."

Faith had grown steadily stiffer as the Old One stirred memories best left alone. She noticed at the back of her mind that the sound on the TV had become muted. She clenched her fists but said nothing to interrupt Illyria.

"You are interesting," Illyria finally said, "far more interesting than most of the others I've allowed myself to associate with."

"Not even Angel or Spike?"

Illyria looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, but such behavior would be unbecoming of a God-King, Faith understood. "Angel is a Champion and offers a perspective gained after hundreds of years, soulless and ensouled. However his sense of guilt is so pervading that spending a great of time with him can be grating. Spike would be by far the more preferable choice, yet he can offer me little."

Faith nodded slowly. Illyria could be counted on to be ruthless, calculating, and brutal, but she was rarely duplicitous. " _If_ I'm goin' somewhere and you intend to come with me, there will have to be compromises."

Buffy's voice rang out from the living room. "If _we're_ going, Faith, and if you intend to come with _us,_ Illyria," she corrected.

Illyria didn't acknowledge the interruption, instead she curled her lip. "You would have me remain in this form and act as the shell, to conceal myself from the vermin as I have done in the past?"

"Yes."

"Implied also is my restraint in dealing with our associates should they mock me. It is agreed then. However, do not forget your place, Slayer. You are my guide; you hold no power over me except for that which I allow. Do not forget who or what I am underneath the shell," Illyria warned in a voice as cold as ice.

"Illyria, I don't know how _anyone_ could forget you," Faith said sincerely. She then began drawing little circles in the grain of the wood as she considered how to broach the next subject.

"There is something else?" Illyria asked.

"DJ, that is Dr. Jackson, would like to come over and ask you some questions."

"The one who has spent time with the Alterans, why?"

"He's an archaeologist and a linguist, he studies history and languages. You just dropped a lot of info. on him yesterday and he'd really like to understand some of the things you said," Faith answered.

Illyria sat motionless, unblinking, until after a few seconds she nodded her assent.

* * *

 **November 16th, 2005**

"Lt. Colonel Carter! Welcome home!"

Sam looked up into the control room that overlooked the Gate room. Waving at her through a window was Col— _General_ O'Neill. She offered him a two fingered salute and headed down the ramp, hearing the Stargate deactivate behind her. She adjusted her pack and headed towards the showers. She had a debriefing ahead of her and it wouldn't do to be anything less than perfectly presentable for 'The Man'.

#

"General." Sam saluted smartly.

Jack glared at her. "Sit down, _Carter._ "

Sam smiled as she did as he asked.

"So...how are the folks?" Jack drawled.

"In a word, sir, frustrated," Sam said with a frown. "The fragmentation of the alliance between the Tok'ra and the Jaffa rebels grates on Dad, especially as news of Ba'als victories are still trickling in. We know _what_ needs to be done but no one between Earth, the Tok'ra, and the Jaffa can agree _how_."

"So...frustrating," O'Neill said, as if imparting some great wisdom.

"Frustrating," Sam agreed. "Maybe Teal'c was more successful, is he back yet?"

Jack shook his head. "Nope. It's been pretty lonely here."

It was said with such a morose expression that Sam was willing to take the bait. "Lonely, _General_ , in your own base? Okay, I'll bite. Since he evidently survived Illyria, where is Daniel?"

Jack's face turned almost gleeful in an instant. "Well, Carter, he just went back to Antarctica, doing nerd stuff with Weir and McKay. But you're asking the wrong question. You're supposed to be asking 'Where _was_ he?'." Jack looked at her expectantly.

Sam rolled her eyes and parroted him. "Where _was_ he?"

Jack wore a beatific smile. "He's been a busy boy, Carter, and you know he observed the meeting between Thor and Illyria. Well thanks to his efforts, undertaken with considerable danger to life and limb, we now know what killed the dinosaurs off."

Sam was confused and spoke slowly, as if to an idiot, "we already knew, General, there's a crater in the Yucatan peninsula that reflects an object hitting the Earth with sufficient mass and speed to have caused an extinction level event more than 65 million years ago." Jacks eyes had begun to glaze over by the time she was almost finished. She glared at him.

"No, Carter, that's the _how,_ not the _what_." Jack once again looked at her expectantly.

Sam furrowed her brows trying to follow Jack's line of thought.

"Illyria told Thor and Daniel that one of her kind did so because he felt mocked by their appearance."

"He felt mocked and—he, what, summoned an asteroid?" Sam asked incredulously, mind spinning as she tried to understand what she had just been told.

Jack shrugged and held out both hands, waggling his fingers. "It's m-a-a-agic."

"How did that even come up?" Sam asked.

"Daniel described it as part of a series of threats, intimidation, posturing, and brinkmanship. Kinda like every conversation with the Goa'uld ever but with the scary level amped up," Jack answered.

"Anything else?" she asked, suddenly feeling tired.

"Illyria revealed, and Thor didn't deny it, that it was also the Old Ones, one of them, who released the plague that sent the Ancients to the Pegasus galaxy."

"Well, all that may explain why the Asgard and the Nox were willing to move, and why the Furlings would come out of wherever they are," Sam said, shaking her head.

"And, we learned that the name of the Ancients' race was not, in fact, the Ancients," Jack said.

"Truly, you are the very font of wisdom," Sam said dryly.

Jack looked aggrieved at her remark. "As it turns out, Illyria said that they were originally called the 'Alterans'. Daniel had said that Illyria told him that he 'stank' of the Alterans and thought it a reference to being ascended. Guess he was right though personally, I always thought it was the smell of nerd but, hey, not judging. She's also regaining her powers, Carter. At an unknown speed and to an unknown extent. Illyria has also claimed our favorite brunette Slayer as a guide and is now living with her."

"So now Faith, Buffy, and Illyria are all under the same roof? Looks like Lorne might be on target," Sam said, nodding.

"Faith is more than ready to go through a Stargate, hell she's probably been ready for a while now. How how the hell am I going to get _anyone_ to allow Buffy and an Old One in disguise to go with them?" Jack asked.

"Might not be as bad as you think, sir. Buffy's had a high security clearance for a long time and we both know that she'll ace any of the physical requirements. If Faith is still working with her, then she'll be up to speed even faster." Sam hesitated. "As for Illyria, well we both know how gifted Fred was; her skillset had already caught our recruiters' attention when she was at UCLA. There are few out there who could've match her intellect. Illyria contains all of that knowledge, General, and all that she knows from her own experiences. Don't send Illyria through, send Fred. I doubt anyone would object to having Winifred Burkle on hand as a science member on their team."

"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir, it's a complicated mess and if Faith is going who knows where, there are few who could keep her safer than Buffy and Illyria," Same answered softly.

Jack leaned back in his chair, watching the emotions play over Sam's face. "I didn't know you'd become such good friends while I was gone."

Sam's face went pink.

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Sa-a-a-m?" he wheedled. She said nothing, but Jack watched her face turn from pink to red. "Well?"

"Ah, General, I'm not sure if it's appropriate—"

Jack's glare silence her.

Sam took a deep breath. "Faith and I were...lovers for several months."

Jack blinked. "Really?"

Sam nodded.

"With _Faith_?"

Sam sighed.

Jack whistled and was quiet for a moment while Sam squirmed. "So..."he hesitated briefly than continued in a rush, "since when have you been into...you know?" Jack waved his hands in a way that was meant to articulate his point.

"Jack..." a warning tone in Sam's voice.

"Shutting up."

* * *

 **One week later...  
November 23rd, 2005**

Jack sighed when his office phone rang. He had an _office phone_. _Ugh_. "General O'Neill."

"Jack! Just the man I wanted to speak to." Daniel's voice echoed out of the receiver.

"How did you know my number?" Jack asked, irritated, " _I_ don't even know my number."

"You really should read the paperwork they give you," Daniel said, sounding amused.

Jack glared at the phone, the effect lost on the archaeologist standing close to 10,000 miles away. "What did you need Daniel? I have a busy schedule today."

"I'm sure you can push your busy schedule to another time, Jack. I need you to come down to Antarctica."

Jack paused and furrowed his brow. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because I'm fairly confident that we may have just figured out how to get to Atlantis."

A thrill of excitement ran through Jack as he thought furiously. The hope of actually discovering the lost city of the Ancients had been dwindling as they ran into dead end after dead end. "You're serious? You're confident this will pan out?"

"As confident as I can be, Jack. I need you to come down here for a meeting with Weir, McKay, and myself."

Jack nodded to himself and made a note to ask his secretary—did he even _have_ a secretary?—to clear his schedule for the next few days while he rediscovered his hatred for cold, snow, and everything Antarctica. He thought of a personnel file he'd come across the other day and came to a decision, _well at least I'll have good company, Major Sheppard seems like he'll be a fun travel buddy._

"Alright Daniel, I'll get there when I can and let you know when I make it to McMurdo."

"Sounds good, I gotta go, McKay is making amusing 'come here' gestures."

"See you—hey Daniel, wait a sec."

"Yeah?"

"Did you know that Sam and Faith were...involved?"

There was a moment of silence. "Yes. Neither said anything, but Faith does subtlety kind of like you do patience."

"I resent that," Jack said primly.

"I'll see you soon, Jack."

"Soon," Jack promised and hung the phone up with a sigh. " _Faith?"_ he murmured, shaking his head. He looked at his schedule, his very blank schedule. There wasn't even an SG team that was due back anytime soon. He looked at his watch and made a decision.

* * *

"Help," Faith prompted, holding a card.

Buffy searched her mind for the answer, her foot tapping on the carpet surface while she sat on the sofa. "I know this one, it's—"

"Asordo."

Buffy and Faith turned to glare at Illyria who staring at the TV. The TV that wasn't on.

"Illyria," Faith began... "We know _you_ know the language, but Buffy needs to know at least some of the Ancient language, too."

Illyria didn't look away though she did scoff at the use of the word "Ancient." Still looking at the TV, the Old One asked, "do you possess Crash Bandicoot?"

If Buffy looked confused, Faith was incredulous. "You play...Crash Bandicoot?" the brunette asked.

"It was inane, an utter waste of time, yet I found it compelling. It provided...distraction while in the company of the former Guardian of the Deeper Well; his presence was not intolerable."

Buffy was clearly about to ask what the hell they were even talking about when the doorbell rang. Faith gave the blonde a shrug and went to the door, leaving Buffy to deal with...whatever that had been.

Faith looked through the peephole of the apartment door and felt her eyebrows rise. She stepped away and opened the door.

"Jack! How are you?" she paused. "How's your nose?"

He gave her a dirty look. "It'll be fine soon. I'm doing okay, though that won't last long."

"Why?" Faith asked, nose scrunched up in concern.

"Daniel asked me to go to Antarctica, apparently there's a lead on Atlantis's whereabouts."

"Ah," Faith murmured as a thought occurred to her. "Jack...if we _did_ find Atlantis and we if sent people there...you'd consider that to be a long term project, right?"

"Yes..." Jack drawled out, then paused. "Think you might be interested in a trip to Atlantis?"

"Maybe," Faith shrugged, "but it makes more sense than the other theories that I've come up. Not particularly anxious to try what SG-10 did in order to be gone for a while."

"Reasonable," Jack acknowledged.

Faith saw Jack trying to peek around her and smiled inwardly. "Something you want Jack?"

"Ah, two things. You have company?"

"In the living room," Faith affirmed.

"So I've been meaning to ask," Jack stopped and considered his angle of approach. "You and Sam?"

Faith actually looked a little embarrassed about it, rubbing the back of her head. "Look Jack, there's not a lot to talk about. It was a while back and it wasn't serious." Faith paused and looked Jack in the eye. "Look, she was torn up about losing you. Losing _you_ , Jack. And who was she going to talk to? Teal'c? Ha. Daniel? Far too much potential for awkwardness. So we talked and then we did more than talk. But it started because she lost _you._ You better do something about that, Jack, or it'll be some other schmuck, cause she ain't gonna wait forever on your old ass."

"I am not old!" Jack protested.

"How is _that_ what you latched onto from everything I just said!" Faith retorted.

Jack looked abashed. "How did you get so good at this?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "I'm apparently the new Dr. Phil."

They both looked to see Buffy walk into the kitchen. "Hey Jack...nose okay?"

"Fine," he said a little curtly.

"So, we okay?" Faith asked.

"You mean am I going to attack you in a fit of jealous rage?" Jack asked dryly. "Yeah, kid, we're good."

"Okay, so you better head off to go see Daniel, right?" Faith asked slowly moving forward, trying to keep him from entering deeper into apartment.

"Remember I said two things? Come on, nobody wants me to meet her! What's the worst that could hap—mph!"

" _You,"_ Faith hissed, "really want to ask _that? You?!"_

Jack opened his mouth and then closed it. "Fine. What's she doing in there anyways? I don't hear any sounds of destruction, mayhem, or anything else that might indicate the end is nigh."

"Illyria is watching the TV," Buffy said blandly.

Jack gave her a quizzical look.

"Buffy means that she's literally just watching the TV, which isn't on. I think she's feeling nostalgic, she played Crash Bandicoot once and was hoping to play it again," Faith elaborated.

Jack snorted and was about to say something when he paused. "Which one?"

"Which one what?" Faith asked.

"Which Crash Bandicoot?"

They both just stared at him.

"I'm _not_ that old, I can play Playstation, too!"

Buffy started chuckling, although it sounded closer to a giggle to Jack's ear.

"You need to leave. Get out or I'll _let_ you make that offer to her and laugh when she hurts you," Faith said, the smile belying any threat.

"Fine, fine, leaving. Want me to pass anything on to Daniel?"

"Nah, now go have fun in the freezing cold!"

Jack grimaced. He _really_ hated Antarctica.

* * *

 **November 26th, 2005**

"Kinda like it here," Major John Sheppard commented.

"You like it here?" Jack asked, the tone that of a man talking to a possibly deranged lunatic.

"Yes, sir. Be there in about 10 minutes, sir."

 _Daniel, if this turns out to be a waste of my time, I'm going to remind you of your high school days and stuff you into a locker,_ Jack inwardly groused.

#

"I've heard the Alterans packed up their entire city and left somewhere between five and ten million years ago," Daniel lectured his audience of three. Dr. Weir and Rodney McKay were both with him as they presented their findings towards General O'Neill.

"In their...flying city?" Jack asked dubiously.

"Yes," Daniel confirmed.

Jack gave Daniel a brief head shake and odd smile.

"What?" Daniel asked?

" _Flying..._ city?"Jack repeated, his face the very expression of incredulity.

Weir crossed her arms in exasperation.

"Uh...well, Keep in mind this is the race that built the Stargates. They did everything big," Daniel said.

"I'm sorry, I think I missed something. What did you call them?" Weir asked.

Daniel exchanged a look with Jack. "Alterans. We've recently, very recently, discovered that to be the name of their race or an older name for them, by any rate," Daniel said.

"Why was this not brought to anyone else's attention?" the woman asked once again with an edge of annoyance in her tone.

"Like he said," Jack said, " _very_ recently. Moving on." He gave the physicist and diplomat a look to emphasize his words.

"So, why'd they leave?" McKay asked.

"Why'd they leave? Um, again, very recently," Daniel said, grimacing at the annoyed expressions McKay and Weir had, "we know the Alterans on Earth were suffering from a plague. And, maybe some were trying to start over seeding life in a new galaxy. Maybe that's what Alterans do. But the point is we know where they _went_."

"Pegasus." Jack stated.

"Yes, it's the name of a dwarf galaxy in the local group." Daniel scratched at his neck as he answered.

"After all the time is there any hope of actually meeting them?" Rodney asked.

"Well...who knows? But isn't that reason enough to go?" Daniel replied.

"Well I've been choosing members for this expedition for months, Doctor, I'm not the one who needs convincing," Weir said, smiling at O'Neill.

"Well I'm convinced," Jack said, "have fun."

Daniel fidgeted slightly. "Well, it's, uh, it's a little more complicated than that."

"We need the ZedPM to power the Gate."

"What?" Jack asked, confused.

"ZPM. He's uh...he's Canadian," Daniel explained.

Jack considered the man for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"Jack, you know that gating to another galaxy requires an enormous amount of power," Daniel explained.

"Yes, I do. Find another way." Jack's tone was far more serious than it had been since he'd arrived.

"There's no other way," Daniel said quickly, looking irritated.

Weir and McKay just looked between them, waiting.

"You think there are more of these...Zed things in Atlantis?" Jack asked.

"Yes. And who knows what else we could find, this isn't just some other civilization we're talking about. These are the Gate _builders_."

"The potential wealth of knowledge and technology, it outweighs anything we've come across since we stepped through the Stargate," Weir added.

"Well, with the amount of power you'll need to make this trek, odds are it'll be one way," Jack warned.

Daniel shot Jack a look. Aside to Weir and McKay, he said, "you know that I agree with you, that we should do this. But Jack _is_ right. The expedition could be a long way from home for a long time if things don't work out."

"Yes we know. But the benefit to humanity is far greater than the risk, Dr. Jackson, General, and it is a risk that every one of my expedition members is willing to take."

McKay looked a little less confident, but he didn't object.

Jack nodded at Daniel. _Message received._

"Alright, Dr. Weir. I'll be in touch with you about a timetable for assembling and launching the expedition from the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Give me a call when you make it back to Colorado Springs, I have a few people that you might be interested in having as part of your expedition," Jack said, standing up and stretching an arm out.

Weir gave him an odd look. "Of course, we're still looking for more researchers, scientists, linguists, skilled individuals in all fields. As you say, this might be one way so I'm doing my best to make sure all our bases are covered."

Jack and Daniel winced simultaneously. While McKay had zoned out and was looking over more of their collected data, Weir definitely noticed. She raised an eyebrow. "General?"

"Several young women who have entered our lives in one way or another. Two of them...well they're more likely to make good field personnel. The other one is a gifted physicist, she can give Sam a run for her money, in fact," Daniel said, inwardly wincing at using the present tense for describing Fred.

"Three young women?" Weir said, the odd look back on her face. "Sure, I'll be happy to meet them."

A Scottish voice shouted out, interrupting them. "Dr. Weir! Dr. Weir!"

"What is it, Dr. Beckett?" Weir asked, striding towards the man who wore a panicked expression.

Jack took the opportunity to rise from his seat and stand next to Daniel while Weir dragged the story from the interrupting visitor. "How long do you'll think it'll take Weir to have everything ready?" Jack asked quietly.

"She was telling the truth earlier, she's been working on this for months. If everything goes as planned, I'd be astonished if she's not standing in Atlantis drinking champagne within three weeks."

Jack nodded. "Guess I should probably let our girls know then. I know Buffy has people she'll want to talk to, to say goodbye to. That's _if_ she and Faith even _want_ to do this."

Daniel gave him a dry look, "You think they won't?"

Jack shrugged. "Faith...and Illyria will. Didn't get much of an impression of Buffy except for the one she gave me on the nose."

Daniel smirked, "You've been waiting to use that one, haven't you?"

Jack just smiled. "I'll tell them the moment I get back." He paused, "we're spending an awful lot of resources on this research and expedition and now we're talking about sending a former...god thing with a short temper along. Is it just me who thinks that's a bad idea?"

Daniel didn't answer.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** There is nothing in the BtVS canon that shows any link between the demons and dinosaurs to my knowledge other than an occasional resemblance. Azogg-mon _was_ an Old One in BtVS canon and (from the few pictures there are of him) kinda resembled a T-Rex. That's the source of my idea, that and the quote described below.

That idea was also accompanied by another quote taken from the _Others_ series by Anne Bishop. In that series, the Others are primal beings that range from vampires, shifters, elementals, to the more strange and undefinable. There was a conversation in one of the books where a character asks the rhetorical question "What happened to the dinosaurs?" to which he supplies his own answer "The Others happened to them." Amazing series, go read it.

And that should wrap up the Faith/Sam discussions. Minimal/no drama, just as promised.

My using Zed for ZedPM, is just to reflect the pronunciation, nothing else. Zed is the British English pronunciation of "Z." So it's spelled "ZPM" but pronounced "ZED-PEE-EM"


	19. So Long, Farewell

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Nine**

 _ **So Long, Farewell**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Once again, breaking my record for longest chapter. Woo. This chapter is going to be _long_. I'm going to be giving you a lot of information as well as including the goodbyes for the various parties (should be obvious by the chapter title). There's a lot of build up, and a lot of _little_ things which I felt had to be included prior to the actual 'cya laters' which is the main cause for the chapter's length. In essence, this chapter's purpose is to tie up some/most of the loose ends.

Just throwing it out there, I've noticed the capitalization of Ascended B/being and the O/others as extremely unconsistent. I went ahead and capitalized the Others, but left the Being part as being.

I plan on there being only one last chapter of this part of the story and am currently debating on where to take the third part, but have no fear, I will not abandon the story. In fact, I've already written the first two chapters, the second of which I had a _lot_ of fun writing. As a disclaimer, you should expect far more action in the third part.

It's very likely that I'll be posting chapter ten, the final chapter of this part of the story, as early as tomorrow but definitely within the next three days.

* * *

#

 **November 29th, 2005**

"Atlantis?" Buffy asked dumbly.

"Atlantis," Jack repeated, a smile spreading across his face.

"Atlantis," Buffy said, though the statement still sounded more like a question than a statement.

"Atlantis," Faith affirmed on behalf of Jack, though she was still a little more than stunned herself.

"You're offering me the chance to go to... _Atlantis_?" Buffy asked, attempting to determine the extent of her newly discovered mental instability.

"Cease your pointless bleating, he was clear in his invitation, though the presentation was overly effuse."

 _Ah, not insane then_ , Buffy thought. "Thank you for setting that straight, Illyria."

"Your gratitude is meaningless."

The humans shared a collective wince, though there might have been a hint of a smirk on Jack's face.

"Yeah, I can't imagine how this might not go wrong," Faith muttered, eyeing the Old One. "So, what's the catch?"

"A few of them," Jack admitted. "Faith, were you ever tested for the ATA gene?"

Faith shook her head. "Not that I know of, you'd have to check Frasier's records."

Jacks face tightened, "I'll check with Brightman, but we'll need the both of you—" Jack paused, seeing Illyria's posture shift, "—all three of you to go take the Chair test. Illyria, is it even possible for you to even operate Alteran technology?"

Illyria considered the question. "I do not know, though now that I wear the shell of your kind, it may be possible, however my lack of recognizable vital signs is likely to disallow such an opportunity."

Faith didn't bother to conceal her grimace, about being in the Old One's company, about the return trip to the Antarctic, or about the possibility of Illyria being able to use Ancient technology. From Jack's expression, he had the same thought.

"What kind of jeans do I need?" Buffy asked, confused.

Jack stared at her, then at Faith who just smiled blandly. "Fill her in," he commanded. "I have to go ride herd on a bunch of scientists and military personnel." He stood up from the leather chair in Faith's living room. "That's the other catch," he said softly. "There's a few military hardasses that are part of the expedition. The leader of that military contingent is one such individual. Colonel Sumner is a good man, a good leader, and a damn good fighter, but he is a man set in his ways. You'll have to fight for your place if you want to work in the field with him and his men"

"Been there, done that," the blonde Slayer said, buffing her nails on her shirt. "Initiative," she explained at Jack's curious look.

The general shook his head. "We'll talk more later. Buffy, you have two weeks to say your goodbyes or to change your mind."

Buffy bit her lip and nodded.

"Be in touch," he said again as he left the three women in Faith's apartment.

#

Jack had just closed the door and walked the first few steps down the stairs when he heard the door open and close behind him followed by the sound of Faith's voice calling his name. He turned to see her catching up to him, shrugging on a leather jacket as she walked down the steps to meet him.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," Faith answered, "but Buffy is going a little stir crazy. Nothing to slay or dismember and all that."

Jack snorted. "And people say that _my_ life is whacked. Better make sure she knows that Pegasus might be a snoozefest; can't imagine vampires will be much of a concern."

Faith shrugged. "Probably, I'm pretty sure vamps never made it quite _that_ far," she admitted. "Then again, knowing my luck and the PtB's sense of humor, I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to make you eat those words if I see you again."

Jack glanced at her. "You seem...okay with the _if_ bit."

"I am," Faith said, following him down the last few stairs that led into the parking lot. "There'll be things I miss, people too. But not a lot. Buffy has a lot more to lose if she goes with."

"Think she'll change her mind?" Jack asked.

Faith didn't answer right away. "No," she said, though it was said with some hesitation. "But she..."

"Complicated?" Jack guessed.

Faith nodded.

They walked side by side in companionable silence for a few moments before Faith spoke again. "Any chance SG-10 is on the list of people going?"

"No," Jack replied. "They're all still willing to continue working with the SGC for some reason, but going to a different galaxy without an exit strategy..."

"Bad memories?" Faith asked.

"Not so much bad memories as the lack of them compared to everyone else," Jack corrected. He glanced at her and slowed his step. "You know, kid, you _could_ stay here. Stay here, go with SG-10, even with Buffy and Illyria...maybe. Just because some green-skinned...guy said you'd be going away doesn't mean Atlantis, or that you even have to at all!"

Faith eyed the man who looked uncomfortable at his own outburst and had shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. She reached a hand out and tugged on Jack's arm, making the man stop and look at her with a strained smile.

"Jack," she began, speaking in a soft voice. "We've known each other for two years. Well, one really considered you pulled a 'me' and went all coma-like."

He made a face.

"Sorry, not funny," Faith said, holding her hands up. "My point is that we know each other, well enough that I consider us friends, despite the massive beauty and age imbalance we're working with."

"I am _not_ old!"

"Jack, I'm almost 25, which is getting close to a decade past my life expectancy as a Slayer. I'm not a little girl, haven't been one for a long, long time and I don't need your protection. I appreciate it, I do but it's my—"

Jack made a harsh rhythmic breathing sound and said in a deep voice, "it is your destiny! Join me, and together, we can rule the galaxy—"

Faith shoved Jack lightly. "You need to stop watching movies with Teal'c," Faith interrupted, smiling at Jack's successful attempt at levity.

Jack smiled with her. "You gonna tell them?"

Faith scrunched her nose up. "SG-10? About me?" Faith considered it and eventually shrugged. "I'll tell them when I get back. Probably ain't the best thing to drop _that_ bomb on their heads and leave them to fend for themselves."

Jack nodded. "My grill is open if you want a proper send-off."

Faith smiled at him. "Yeah, think I'd like that."

They looked at each other.

"Alright, moment over," Faith announced.

"Oh thank god," Jack breathed out in relief.

"Later bro."

Jack waved his own goodbye as he hopped into his dark green pickup and drove off.

Faith watched Jack's truck slowly disappeared from view, wrapping her arms around herself as she felt a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. _Did_ she want to leave all of this behind? She'd made a home for herself here, complete with home, friends, and even a family of sorts. The horrors of her childhood and those faced as a Slayer had been replaced with the wonder the stars might show her. _Could_ she leave this behind in pursuit of the unknown?

 _Are you ready to be strong?_

Faith closed her eyes. "Yes."

Opening her eyes again, she began the trek back up to her apartment, to Illyria, and to Buffy.

* * *

 **Three days later...  
December 2nd, 2005**

"That's a lot of crap," Jack observed conversationally, looking at all the equipment slowly accumulating within the SGC. It was piled up against the walls, in corners and Jack figured it wouldn't be the long until things were hanging from the rafters.

"It's not crap," Rodney McKay protested, "this is all incredibly valuable instruments that might prove vital to the survival and success of this expedition. It is not _crap!_ "

Dr. Weir hid a smile. McKay was painfully easy to bait and it was obvious that General O'Neill delighted in doing so.

"Dr. McKay, I'm sure General O'Neill is aware of that. If you don't mind, I need to steal him for a little bit," she interrupted before they could start up again.

"You do?" O'Neill turned to give her a hangdog expression.

"You do," Weir confirmed, no longer hiding the smile. She'd been doing that a lot lately, she realized. Ever since the expedition had gone from theoretical to imminent, smiles had been coming much easier and more often.

"Very well," he sighed with an air of profound disappointment.

"No! Not there! Put that with the rest of the scanning equipment! Can't you even see that it's labeled!"

Weir and Jack both turned to see McKay berating two Airman struggling to move a large blue container.

"I can still take him outside, bring him 'round the mountain, and put him down if you're interested," Jack offered dryly.

Weir smiled. "Dr. McKay is a brilliant physicist, one we'll likely need in order to find a way home. Much like one Winifred Burkle, I believe." She noticed a barely perceptible flinch at the corners of his eyes and wondered at it.

"Ah," Jack said with great eloquence.

"While the other two I'm less sure of, Miss Burkle appears to be a perfect fit with the other members of my science team," the doctor added.

"Uh huh." The general seemed especially noncommittal. _Odd._

"But I don't understand the other two, General. I agree that the fact they both score high on the Chair Interface Aptitude range is significant, but they are both incredibly young, have no experience with the Stargates, and possess no expertise in _any_ scientific field. So why them, too?"

"You read their dossiers then?" Jack asked. Seeing the doctor's nod, he continued. "Then you know why. Colonel Sumner might not like it but I happen to outrank him. He'll give you and them hell, but they can take it. You've seen their scores on the physical tests, the firing range, and Miss Lehane has spent the better part of the last two years preparing herself for something like this _with_ SG-10." Jack decided to play his trump card. "Besides, Miss Burkle won't come without Faith."

Weir paused at that and raised an eyebrow.

"They're a package deal, all three of them. Miss Summers has the same level of proficiency on the required physical tests for field involvement as Lehane, Dr. Weir, and though she didn't work with anyone from the Stargate program, she has security clearance from her involvement in a _very_ classified operation. An operation that included small unit tactics that would be most beneficial to you.

Weir studied him for a long moment. "All of those are solid reasons, General, but there's something you're not telling me, why do you want them to go so badly?"

General O'Neill said nothing, just looked at her levelly.

"No one goes on my expedition without talking to me, General," Weir warned.

Jack nodded and gave her a piece of folded paper from his blue tactical pants. Weir opened it to find the names of all three young women, an address, and a phone number. She considered them for a moment before refolding it and putting it into her own pocket.

"Doctor."

She looked up to see the General looking at her with perhaps the most serious expression she'd ever seen on him. She raised a questioning brow.

The general opened his mouth. Close it. Grimaced. Sighed. He paused and then opened his mouth again, "Doctor these women are all...unique in their own way. You won't have to take care of them or babysit them, you just have to accept that _they'll_ be able to take care of _you_."

Weir paused at his words, remember similar ones spoken what felt like yesterday by the brown suited man with the brown fedora.

 _You don't need to do anything but accept it._

"Noted, General O'Neill," she replied somewhat shakily.

* * *

The knock at the door disturbed her from her thoughts. It was soft, but not hesitant. Her guide and the other Slayer had gone into Faith's room and shut the door. They had wanted privacy, her guide had said. It was of no concern to her, though she idly wondered if their choice to accept one another as sexual partners was a result of some sort of defect. She made a mental note to ask her guide when she was present.

Illyria paused. Perhaps she would _not_ ask; if it was a defect, she would rather they not know, for their reaction might be to find other partners and breed as a result, diminishing their value to her. It was illogical and therefore something they might be prone to do. A gestating female, Slayer or not, would not serve in the capacity she desired and she refused to encourage the seemingly endless reproduction that the muck engaged in.

Illyria was aware of the concept of sexuality in its various forms, but by choice had never given it much thought. Thinking about the disgusting process of human reproduction made her want to clean the vermin off this planet even more than usual.

The knock sounded again and Illyria donned the shell's appearance as she walked towards the door. She tilted her head and paused. Perhaps this wasn't a defect but an evolutionary adaptation as a result of overpopulation. Would she benefit if she _did_ encourage the two Slayers to breed with others of their kind in order to sow the adaptation into the greater gene pool?

Humans seemed to take such umbrage when conversation centered around their more vile biological habits. She would ask her guide and hope that this new development would continue.

The knock sounded again. Louder and no less hesitant.

She heard her guide and her...she considered this as her two female companions scrambled to ready themselves for a guest. Was Buffy to be Faith's _mate?_ How can one be a mate if there is no biological drive to reproduce? Was their status affected by the defect or adaptation? Every now and then, humans seemed overly complex for the stunted primitives they were.

Illyria opened the door to reveal a slightly older looking woman with brown hair. She was slim, approximately the same height as the shell. She had her clenched fist in the air and Illyria considered whether this was some pathetic form of attack. However the matter was resolved when the door had fully opened, as the woman brought her fist back to rest at her side. Not an attack then, or perhaps the female was merely craven.

#

"Hi there, how can I help you?"

Elizabeth Weir smiled at the woman who answered the door. It seemed fortuitous that it was Miss Burkle who opened the door, a person she felt like she'd be better able to relate to than either Miss Summers or Miss Lehane. "Hello Miss Burkle, I'm Dr. Elizabeth Weir. I was hoping to have a few moments of your time? Of your two friends as well?"

"May I ask what this is all about?"

Elizabeth smiled warmly. "I'm led to understand that the three of you are aware of the SGC and the nature of the missions it oversees?"

"Ah, of course, why don't you just come on in and take a seat. Hopefully Buffy and Faith are finished, they'll be just delighted to see you."

"Of course, may I ask what they're doing?" Elizabeth asked, hearing only silence in the apartment.

"Well, they'll be coming in here in a jiffy," the smiling girl said. Winifred Burkle seemed charming, wearing a red blouse and denim jeans with just a hint of tasteful make-up. "Dr. Weir do you mind if I ask you a question?"

At Miss Burkle's direction, Weir took a seat at the kitchen table and nodded.

"Well, I was just curious, you see," Miss Burkle said, looking abashed, "but if two members of the same gender were to, um, engage in sexual congress, do you feel that it would be a defect or an evolutionary adaptation?"

Weir's eyes went wide at the question and even wider when the apartment's other occupants entered the room looking flushed and...well like they'd been engaging in "sexual congress."

"Nevermind," Miss Burkle said with an innocent expression.

"Hey, um, who are you?"

The question came from the brunette, Faith Lehane, who by all rights should be in prison but for the inexplicable pardon she'd received. Her companion would have to be one "Buffy" Elizabeth Anne Summers, former murder suspect and asylum resident. Elizabeth stood up and extended a hand. "Miss Lehane, Summers, I'm Dr. Elizabeth Weir, head of the Atlantis expedition."

 _That_ got all three women's attention.

"Ah, hello, please call me Faith." The brunette shook her hand and sat next to Miss Burkle.

"And Buffy for me," the blonde said with a bright, sunny smile.

"And please, call me Fred," the physicist said with a sweet smile, "Winifred isn't exactly the most charming name."

"Very well," Weir acknowledged with a nod. "Now, I'm led to believe you three are all acquaintances of General O'Neill at Stargate Command." At their nods, she continued, "he has suggested that each of you have unique talents that would be suited for my expedition. Beyond Miss B—sorry, beyond Fred's talents, I'm not entirely sure what he means, though your results in any of the standard physical and weapons tests are beyond outstanding and the fact that the two of you tested positive for the chair test presents another benefit. But what you offer would be best suited for the field and that is something that Colonel Sumner will have to approve of."

"We're aware of that, Dr. Weir. As you said, Fred's knowledge speaks for itself, and I'm sure you're aware that she too was able to pass all of the other qualifications to be considered for the expedition as well," Faith started.

"But Faith and I are both skilled with hand to hand weapons and tactics. Both of us would be considered master marksman with a variety of firearms, more Faith than me, but I've also had some experience in small units in the past with the military, ones that might be somewhat similar to your own field teams," Buffy finished.

"General O'Neill mentioned it, but I never received any further information about it," Weir said frowning.

"Classified," Faith and Buffy said simultaneously.

"I was led to believe that my clearance level is about as high as it gets," Weir said, visibly annoyed.

"You can verify my activity with Major Davis at the Pentagon or with General O'Neill," Buffy said. "They may not tell you the details, but they'll confirm my statement."

Weir sat back and observed all three. "General O'Neill is really pushing for you three to go and everything that I've been hearing supports his decision to do so. However, O'Neill as much as admitted that there were things he wasn't telling me and I get the same feeling from you. I need to know if whatever that information is that it won't endanger the success of the expedition or the safety of the people involved."

The three women exchanged looks. "We can be an asset, Dr. Weir, if you allow us to be," Faith finally said.

Weir grimaced at the non-answer. "Miss Summer, I'll check on your claim regarding your history and get back to you. If it checks out, I'll get back to you for a confirmation. Fred, you've already been cleared to join the expedition."

Weir looked levelly into Faith's eyes. "You pleaded guilty to murder, Miss Lehane. You served several years in prison after turning yourself in before you broke out and disappeared. You were then pardoned, while you were still a fugitive."

Faith's breath hitched, "Yes, Dr. Weir."

Weir gave her a long look. "Want to tell me how you worked that deal?"

Faith shrugged a shoulder. "My lawyers were supernaturally gifted?" she suggested. "I wasn't there for the deal, Dr. Weir, I don't know how it came together, but Wolfram & Hart worked it out."

"Ah, yes, the law firm that has since been destroyed. _Destroyed,_ " Weir said with a raised eyebrow. "May I ask where you went after you escaped? I don't believe I received that information."

"I don't think it was on any report, though Ja—General O'Neill knows," Faith answered. "I was in LA for a couple days before I ended up in Sunnydale."

"Ah, the city turned sinkhole. I believe it was about the time of your escape that the disaster actually occurred, if I'm not mistaken."

Faith didn't answer, just gave Weir the same regard she was receiving.

"I lived in Sunnydale, Doctor, and I can promise you that Faith was _not_ responsible for destroying the city," Buffy interjected dryly.

"Of course, I didn't mean to imply that. There are a lot of gaps in all three of your records, I'm just trying to understand," Weir said, sounding embarrassed. "Even you Fred, when you disappeared for five years."

Fred smiled. "I understand, Dr. Weir. I was going through a tough time and I needed time for myself. A sabbatical, ya know?"

Weir looked pained at the question. "Yeah, working with the amount of squabbling scientists I am, I really do."

Weir spent a moment studying Faith. "Well, Faith, based on your performances on your physical and weapons testing, the two years you've spent working your way into the Stargate program, and with the recommendations of General Hammond, General O'Neill, Major Boyd, and Dr. Jackson, I'm giving you the go ahead as well. Don't make me regret it."

Faith nodded in reply and both she and Buffy both sighed in relief.

"Well thank you so much for this opportunity," Fred gushed. "I can't tell you just how excited I am."

Weir's smile made itself known once again. "Believe me, I know _exactly_ how excited you are."

#

"Huh."

Faith's comment hung in the air after their maybe-possibly-likely future boss left the apartment.

"So, guess I'm the weak link," Buffy said, looking nervous.

"Maybe," Faith said with a dubious tone, "but you can have the Initiative bit on your record more or less confirmed while I have a big fat escaped felon mark stamped onto mine. Even with that pardon and Jack's word, that has to be setting off some major red flags with the lady. Even if she says all three of us are in, she's going to be keeping an eye on us."

"You are both incorrect."

Buffy and Faith turned to look at a frowning Illyria.

"Why do you say that, Blue?" Faith asked.

"Cease calling me by that insulting moniker," the Old One said, though it seemed less commanding and more perfunctory than usual. "This Dr. Weir had planned on accepting all three of us even before she entered this hovel."

Faith rolled her eyes.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked.

"Her posture, demeanor, and speech indicated that she was engaging in that inefficient practice of hunting aquatic prey using a rod and string." At their blank looks, she continued, "I do not understand the meaning, but Wesley seemed fond of the phrase." Illyria's voice had remained that of Illyria's, but her eyes had lost their hard edge at the mention of her former guide.

Buffy and Faith exchanged baffled looks.

"She was...fishing?" Buffy ventured.

"Obviously."

Faith huffed out a breath. "How? And what for?"

Illyria tilted her head. "Her use of General O'Neill's name, repeated queries about your past, and assertive posture were meant to draw additional information from you, but her decision had already been made. She clearly was well informed of your mundane lives and there was little reason for her to appear at your domicile unannounced unless she was attempting to deliberately put you on the defensive and thus more susceptible to revealing information she did not possess."

"Huh," Faith repeated, "Angel said you were pretty good at figuring people out."

"Humans are simpleminded creatures whose ideas of duplicity and intrigue are equally simplistic."

Buffy and Faith shared a pained smile.

"So what now?" Buffy asked.

"We wait for the doctor to call and you need to start making calls to the Scoobs," Faith replied.

Buffy looked unhappy. "Our own little Last Supper."

"Given the way the last one eventually panned out, I'd rather say one last party," Faith said, smirking. Seeing that Buffy's frown hadn't abated, she added in a softer tone, "you don't have to do this, you know." Jack's words echoed her thoughts. "Lorne doesn't always see everything, you know."

Buffy's expression wavered between determination and grief. "I think I have to. All this," she waved a hand that seemed to encompass everything, "has gotten to be too much. It's so much history and mostly of the bad kind. It's not just Dawn or Spike, not that _that_ is any fun, but everything else. Everybody else is living! Their own lives, careers, and even families! And yet I still hide indoors on my birthday and obsess over Dawn on Tuesdays. Willow has Kennedy, Angel has Cordelia, Xander has Renee, Dawn has Spike, Oz is dating that were-chick in Tibet...even _Giles_ is dating someone. I'm happy for them. I really, really am, but they all have someone, some _thing_ that makes it all worth it. And I don't!"

Buffy was breathing harshly, tears starting to well in her eyes as her voice rose in volume. "I look at them and I see their faces when they told me to leave my own house. I see them and I can feel my nails tearing from my fingers as I tore my way through my coffin and out of my grave. I see their drive, their purpose, and I feel nothing but exhaustion."

Faith opened her mouth and closed it, unsure of herself.

"You feel obsolete. You seek purpose, you seek companionship unfettered by the weight of the worst betrayals."

Illyria's comment drew a surprised look from both Slayers.

"Except I—" Faith began, but was cut off again by Illyria.

"No. Perhaps at the time, your decision to serve the Mayor and your later actions _were_ betrayals of the worst kind, however the passage of time grants you perspective and to my understanding the others were not without blame. More significant to Buffy is that you had no part in the events that hurt Buffy the most."

Faith looked to Buffy who was looking wide-eyed at Illyria before shrugging a shoulder and nodding slightly at the brunette.

"Okay then," Faith said before nudging Buffy. "And you, short and blonde, _do_ have someone. And maybe some _thing_ as well if we find ourselves on the lost city. Call the Scoobs."

Buffy smiled, wiped her eyes, kissed Faith on the cheek and left the room to make some phone calls.

Faith watched Buffy leave before turning to Illyria, who stared at her in return.

"Thank you," the Slayer said simply. Faith had expected the traditional insulting or condescending comment regarding her gratitude, but Illyria surprised her again.

"Her reasons for wishing to leave are not entirely unlike my own."

Faith waited for more, but the Old One left the room, going the short distance to sit on her couch and resume watching one of the movies Faith had deemed "acceptable." She sighed, _time to make some calls of my own._

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hey Dawnie, it's me," Buffy said into the phone, smiling at the sound of her little sister's voice.

"Buffy! Hey, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it is, but I need to talk to you and everyone else. Do you think you and Spike could be at the castle by Saturday?"

There was a moment of silence and a quiet, "Buffy?"

"Look Dawn," Buffy began, and sighed. "I know I haven't been gone that long, but while I've been with Faith...I made some choices, important ones."

"Finally getting down and dirty with our favorite reformed Slayer?"

The hope in Dawn's voice took her aback and it took a few moments for her words to register.

" _What?"_ Buffy hissed, "and what do you mean _finally!?"_

Dawn snorted in amusement. "Oh please, you guys are a walking advertisement for UST."

"What?" This time the question was less outrage and confusion and more total bafflement.

"Unresolved sexual tension," Dawn explained.

Buffy felt a headache coming on. "Look Dawn, it's more than that, it's—"

"I knew it! Oh, my god, I knew it! Xander is gonna be my _bitch_ for the next month! Yes! I totally called it!"

Buffy hung up and sighed.

After almost two minutes, Dawn called back.

"Sorry," her little sister said sheepishly.

"Yeah, well. It's not just about Faith, Dawn. I'm going to be going away for a while," Buffy said, her statement ending in an almost timid whisper.

"Okay..." Dawn drew out the word, obviously expecting more than that.

"I may not be coming back."

A harsh exhalation came through the receiver. "What's this about, Buffy?"

"I need you and Spike to be at the castle by Saturday and do me a favor and give Wills the heads up, too. I'll let everyone else know. And Dawn..."

"Yeah?"

"Make sure you don't tell anyone about me leaving who doesn't already know about Faith and the Stargate."

"Oh. Um, okay." Dawn's confusion and burgeoning panic were almost audible to Buffy, and she had to shove her guilt aside to strengthen her resolve.

Buffy gave Dawn time to understand what Buffy had said and neither one of the Summers sisters spoke for what felt like hours

"Buffy?"

Dawn's voice was small, sounding unsure and scared.

"We'll talk then, Dawnie."

"Okay..."

Buffy hung up before anything else was said, before either Dawn or herself broke down hundreds of miles from each other. She wiped her eyes and took the phone into her hand once again, quickly dialing the next number on her list; it wouldn't be long till the stupid thing started blowing up with texts and calls, so she had better be quick.

* * *

 **December 4th, 2005**

Daniel became suddenly aware of the fact that he wasn't where he should've been. Just a moment ago, he had been in his home in Colorado Springs and he could clearly remember changing into his pajamas and laying down on his bed. All of which made the fact that he was standing in some sort of diner, fully dressed, all the more confusing and disorienting. The diner was packed, nearly every seat taken by a diverse crowd of animated people all having loud conversations at their respective tables. However, the moment he registered their presence, they ceased speaking with one another and stared back at him with a startling intensity.

"Well, that's not creepy at all," he murmured sardonically, feeling the urge to walk out and never return. If he managed to figured out how he got here in the first place, maybe he could do just that.

They continued to stare at him.

A vaguely familiar feminine voice cut the sudden quiet with a shouted, "I'll be right with ya, hon!"

Still, the others stared at him.

Daniel noticed that a table stood directly in front of him perhaps twenty feet away. There were two unoccupied plain looking wooden chairs, one on each end. Try as he might, he saw no other open seats in the entire diner. _Subtle_ , he thought. He walked towards the table, aware of the eyes that continued to track him, and sat down in one of the chairs. This was clearly going to be one of those days.

"What can I get ya?"

He looked up to see a waitress holding an open notepad ready to write his order, smiling down at him with genuine warmth. Again, he was struck by a sense of familiarity. "Um, what do you have?"

"Here?" she asked, "anything you want."

"No menus?"

"We don't need them here," the woman said, continuing to smile. "Just order what you like."

"Okay..." Daniel said slowly before nodding in decision. "Okay, I'll have the truth with a side order of clarity, please."

"I'm afraid you had quite a bad heart attack a few moments ago, so bad that your heart stopped, which is when I stepped in. How's that?"

"Pretty clear," the archaeologist acknowledged.

"We aim to please. Customer comes first, you know."

Daniel studied the older brunette in the waitress uniform, feeling that sense of familiarity again. "So, I'm ascended again," he half asked, half stated.

"Not exactly," the waitress corrected, "sort of a stop along the way."

Daniel frowned as a memory stirred in the depths of his mind. "Waffles."

"With a side of bacon?" the woman asked, scribbling on her notepad.

"No, I remember this place," Daniel said furrowing his brow in thought.

"You should. It came from _your_ mind."

"I was brought here after my parents' funeral," he said, voice thick with the pain of loss the memory stirred.

"By your grandfather," the woman nodded.

"Oma Desala," Daniel stated after studying the woman for a moment, the familiarity of her finally making something click in his mind. He then shook his head to clear it. "Why am I here?"

The ascended Ancient smiled warmly at him, "Mind if I take a seat?"

Daniel nodded, gesturing to the other seat, and watched as the woman took the seat opposite him; it was all so mundane that it actually felt surreal. "Are you going to offer me the chance to ascend again?"

"Not this time, Daniel, though I'm sure I'll get back to you on that sooner or later," Oma replied.

"Forgive me if I hope it's later," Daniel chuckled. "So...the place seems packed. And very quiet. And very focused. On _me_."

"It is and they are," the Ascended being agreed.

"So...why are they so interested in me?" Daniel asked.

"In this matter, their interest in you is incidental, they are far more interested in several of your companions. One of them, to be more specific," Oma said, her demeanor now all business.

He opened his mouth to speak but she held a hand up to forestall him.

"The heart attack you suffered in your sleep," Oma began to explain, "was induced deliberately, Daniel, and was done so that I might speak with you here."

"What?" Daniel asked incredulously, utterly horrified at the idea that beings who existed on a higher plane of existence had conspired to kill him in order to have a chat.

"We needed to speak with you, Daniel, the Others and I. And so we made a deal to bring you here, just for a little while," Oma said sympathetically.

"How very cryptic," Daniel observed dryly. "I thought you Ascended beings were very big on the non-interference thing?"

Oma's lips thinned. "We are, however there is another interested party involved; they aren't...as I or the Alterans are. And unlike my kind and the Others, they enjoy dabbling in the mortal world. They are...separate from us which usually leads to little interaction with one another."

"You're saying that this other interested party gave me a heart attack and killed me, allowing you to bring me here to talk. Exactly who are these hitmen of the Ascended realm? And why couldn't you have hired them to take out Anubis?" the archaeologist asked.

Oma shook her head at his flippancy. "They are similar to us in their form of existence, but any significant degree of similarity ends there. To most, they are simply known as the Powers that Be, and it was one of their agents who was responsible for your heart attack."

"Oh."

Oma nodded.

 _"Oh!"_ Daniel repeated, finally understanding the significance of what had just been revealed. "So are they here to talk to me?"

Oma shook her heard. In a voice much louder than necessary, she glanced around and said, "no, for a group that delights in manipulating people and events they seem to be unusually shy in establishing any form of direct contact." At a more normal volume, she added, "they prefer to work through their various agents and champions. They are observing us, but I am speaking on behalf of the other Ascended beings, not them."

"And the reason I'm getting the creepy stare?" Daniel asked, still the focus of the entire diner.

"They wanted to make sure you understood the gravity of the situation," Oma said, grimacing. "They aren't quite willing to talk to you, but since my hands are already dirty..." The Ancient shrugged.

"Alright," Daniel sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Alright," he repeated, "where should we start?"

"Illyria."

Daniel groaned.

"There will be consequences no matter what action is taken where the Old One is concerned. Both the Powers that Be and the Ascended beings wanted to make sure you understood the potential consequences of allowing her to join the Atlantis expedition."

"Okay..." Daniel said, motioning for her to continue with a roll of his hand.

"Illyria is at a crossroads," Oma explained, "one that could lead her to a path unlike any she or any Old One has ever taken, one that might ultimately be in the best interests of humanity and subsequently, the Powers that Be. Alternatively, she could seek to reclaim her former kingdom. Whether she succeeded or failed, there would be no small amount of bloodshed as a result.

"Bringing Illyria to Atlantis, to the Pegasus galaxy, means removing most of the influence the Powers that Be might wield against her. It would also limit the action that can be taken against her by the older, advanced races in this galaxy who still remember the Old Ones, like the Asgard. It means possibly giving her free reign within a new galaxy, with her only limitation being that of her own depleted power. But her power is _regenerating,_ Daniel, and Illyria will not age. If she travels to Pegasus, she could simply travel to the nearest planet and do nothing but build her power until she was strong enough to pursue her agenda, whatever it may be.

"The people you see at this diner are Ascended beings, many of them the beings you call Ancients. They would have you destroy her."

Daniel raised an eyebrow.

Oma nodded. "Humanity has the capacity to destroy her. _For now_. You have weapons that would overpower her, but they would result in, as you say, collateral damage."

"Okay...so I'm guessing there's another opinion out there?" Daniel asked, seeing her somewhat annoyed expression.

"The Powers that Be, and others more familiar with her kind are aware that you _cannot_ destroy her."

"What?" Daniel asked, surprised.

"I am aware that the former Watcher, Wesley, taught you some of the lore about the Old Ones upon your first meeting, but not even he understood the power they could wield, at least not then. The Old Ones, even if their physical form is destroyed entirely, can still survive. The Deeper Well is a graveyard to the Old Ones, but many of those Old Ones have ways of returning to this world, as Illyria did. We brought you here to make you understand the nature of our concerns, to make sure you have the information needed to make a choice about whether you will allow her to leave or not.."

"Because, of course, the Ancients themselves won't intervene," Daniel said sourly. He strokes his chin for a moment, meeting the eyes of the Ascended beings that stared at him before he nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll be sure consider it and let the others know."

Oma smiled, "Thank you Daniel. The Old One's situation is a complication none are quite certain how to deal with, and though many would have you attempt to destroy her, others, such as the Powers that Be, would rather give her an opportunity to evolve into something...new."

"I understand, I've heard they're big on redemption...hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Perhaps, though I may not answer."

"Of course," Daniel said, nodding quickly. "So the Ancients were known as Alterans, yes?" At Oma's nod, he continued, "the two Slayers that I know both tested positive for the gene. Given the rarity of the gene, that would be one hell of a coincidence."

Oma smiled and nodded. "Very good, Daniel. The Slayer lines coincide with an Alteran heritage; all the Potentials—well I suppose all the Slayers now, possess that heritage to varying degrees. The Slayer was a product of both the Nox, the Alterans, and the Powers that Be. The Nox, called the loranites by some at that time, had established contact with the Alterans, though had not entered into any formal pact. The Nox had learned, at great effort, to commune with the Powers that Be to some degree and learned more about the nature of what the Alterans were dealing with on Earth. They learned what was necessary to create the Slayer, a warrior capable of fighting the demons on equal terms and without the need for technology."

Oma saw his frown and elaborated, "technology was somewhat ineffective against the Old Ones. What use are drones against creatures who use magic? Whose natural bodies imbued them with powers and abilities that the Alterans could not fight? The lesser creatures that fought for the Old Ones could often be destroyed, but so many others required specific methods for them to be destroyed. Take the vampires for example. In the open, the Alterans were more than capable of using drones or their many other advanced weapons to destroy them, but move them into a more enclosed space and their greatest asset is reduced significantly in effectiveness. They needed a way to fight the demons and Old Ones on the physical level that they were incapable of."

"The Slayer," Daniel stated.

With a nod, the Ascended being continued, "it was a joint effort of magic and applied knowledge which led to the creation of Sineya, the first Slayer. She had been an Alteran, one who volunteered without quite understanding what she was volunteering for. But it's a regrettable fact that _no one_ was quite capable of understanding what they'd unleashed upon the world. By the time it was done, Sineya lost much of herself as the demon essence was fused with her own, becoming nearly feral in her drive to destroy demons until she eventually lost her life in battle. This resulted in another Alteran being Called as a Slayer, establishing their lineage. But the creation of the Slayer came far too late, Daniel."

Oma's expression became tired and sad, glancing around the diner and its occupants with a sympathetic expression. "When they first arrived, they had no understanding of the native creatures. No comprehension that they were more than mere beasts, not even the massive and unusual ones. They understood they were dangerous and so they endeavored to remain isolated from them, building in isolation or in the safety of their city-ships. But they weren't beasts, Daniel, these beasts were what humans refer to as demons, many of whom had entered this world from other dimensions, and the more powerful demons were exceedingly territorial.

"The Alterans were largely ignored, suffering from occasional attacks and retaliating in kind, but they had never attracted the attention of the greater demons, the more intelligent and powerful ones. That uneasy co-existence lasted for many thousands of years until the Alterans discovered that this world was a convergence of dimensions, a place where the walls were thinnest, a place that held new and exciting scientific possibilities. They eventually found a point in this world where the walls were at their most thin and removed the demons that had occupied it in order to conduct their research."

"The Hellmouth!" Daniel exclaimed, shaking his head in understanding.

"Yes, a portal that turned out to have been watched over zealously. The Old One closest to the Hellmouth investigated the intruders and thought them an infestation of a particularly new and interesting type of creature. He created the plague that drove the Alterans away from Earth, but not before a short yet brutal war was fought. The Alterans were able to hold their own for a short time, and though the Nox were steadfast allies, the Nox have never been warriors. Fighting on their own against the unfamiliar powers of the Old Ones bled the population dry, a result encouraged further by the rapid progress of the plague.

Some Alterans remained on Earth, carriers of the plague or loved ones that refused to leave. After Sineya died and the process of young women being Chosen to replace their predecessor was cemented, it was noticed that the Slayers were largely resistant to the plague. In the hopes of propagating the Slayers' innate resistance to the plague within the greater gene pool, Alteran scientists used gene therapy and a localized breeding program using eggs collected from the girls after being Chosen. Few, so very few Alterans stayed behind on Earth when the others left, but there were enough to allow the Alterans to sustain themselves until the remainder of their people returned millions of years later."

"Why didn't the Alterans create more than one Slayer?" Daniel asked, then winced as he thought about the pain Sineya and all the girls since have suffered.

"Partly because the...degradation of Sineya's psyche made her nearly as dangerous to them as the demons themselves, partly because of the immense joint effort required to create one in the first place, and partly because they had simply run out of time by then. I believe the Powers that Be are in someway responsible for the continued survival of the Slayer and the remaining Alterans, but I do not know for sure."

Daniel nodded and was silent for a moment before he quietly asked, "Oma...what _are_ the Powers that Be?"

Oma's mouth curled into a sour smile. "Contrary to what they would often have their agents believe, they are not in fact all knowing beings; their reasons for concern regarding Illyria's departure should make this obvious. As to _what_ they are..." Oma shook her head. "I'm not entirely certain, but I can tell you this, Daniel. The Powers that Be claim to have been the first beings to develop within this dimension and it was the arrival of the Old Ones that forced them out, to leave or to enter this higher level of existence. My understanding is that the transition was not immediate and that they shared the world for some amount of time. If you were trying to be more specific than that...I would say that the Powers that Be have much more in common with the Old Ones themselves than they would with you or I."

Oma glanced around the diner after a second and frowned. "Do you have any more questions? They would rather like to have you returned now, it appears your body has been discovered by one of your friends."

Daniel looked at the other woman, this mature, brunette wearing the uniform of a waitress and couldn't help but be in awe, despite their conversation, at what she represented in this diner, at the other patrons who were still looking at him. "I...no, I don't think so. Thank you, Oma, I sincerely appreciate what you've told me. So you think I'll see you again?"

The woman smiled radiantly, "I probably told you a little more than they'd like, but I like to stick it all to the others every now and then. As for whether I'll see you again? I'd like to think so, Daniel, I think you're just the kind of person a place like this needs."

#

Daniel woke up and felt a throbbing pain deep in his chest.

"Daniel, wake up! Please don't do this! Daniel!"

Daniel groaned when a hand slapped his face, the throbbing pain now in two places on his body.

"Daniel! Oh thank god, Daniel!"

Daniel put a hand to his face, rubbing the sore spot gingerly. He slowly sat up and looked around his lit room. Samantha was kneeling over him, pale faced and hands now clasped against her mouth. "Sam?"

"I wanted some advice from you and knocked on the door. I saw your car but you weren't answering the door. I got a little worried and your door was unlocked so I came in and called your name. When I didn't hear anything, I went into your room...Daniel your heart had stopped!"

The archaeologist narrowed his eyes. "I locked the front door."

Sam looked guilty, "I _really_ wanted the advice, I might have unlocked it..."

"What if I had been entertaining company...female company!"

Sam snorted.

"I resent that," Daniel said sullenly.

"Daniel...your heart _stopped_. I need to get you to a hospital to get you checked out." Sam pulled him upwards, trying to get him to stand.

"Sam, Sam, it's okay. I...something happened."

"I know, you twit, your heart stopped!"

Daniel grimaced. "Ah, no. My heart _was_ stopped, intentionally."

Sam stopped a slightly different type of panic appearing on her face."Someone tried to kill you?!"

"I believe that the 'try' part is demonstrably incorrect. I _did_ die, Sam."

"Okay..." Sam said slowly, confusion filling her expression. "You don't seem all that disappointed in that. You seem oddly excited, in fact."

"I met Oma Desala again."

"...an Ascended being just killed you? I thought that was against the rules?"

Daniel gave the blonde a wan smile. "No, apparently the Powers that Be killed me so I would have the chance to speak with Oma, who then returned me here," Daniel explained.

"The Powers that—" Sam cut herself off, looking at him with wide eyes. "There's a story here, huh?"

"You might say that," Daniel said, rubbing his chest as if ensuring that his heart was still beating. "We should call Jack, get him over here, I need to say it all while it's fresh in my mind."

Sam nodded, "I'll give him a call. Given the identity of your...killers, should I be contacting Faith, too?"

Daniel paused, unsure but finally gave in. "Yes, and Buffy, too. Both are going to be interested in what they have to say. I'm going to assume Illyria is coming as well, so...that'll be fun. Now that we're at it, might as well grab Teal'c too, just to complete the gang."

Sam grimaced but nodded her assent.

"Sam...you said you broke into my house to get advice?"

The astrophysicist blushed. "I...it's not important."

"Important enough that you _broke_ into my house," Daniel countered, smirking.

"Jack asked me out," she blurted.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Really? Didn't think he'd ever manage that."

Sam frowned in agreement. "I think Faith might have said something to him. Something about 'not making me wait forever on his old ass'."

"Well, it's been a long time coming. So what advice do you need? You two have been dancing around each other for the better part of a decade!"

"Oh, god, it really _has_ been that long, hasn't it?" she has rhetorically before speaking again. "It's the same problem as before, Daniel. He's my commanding officer."

"My understanding is that the biggest problem would if one of you were enlisted. Aren't rules regarding the chain of command more flexible between officers and so long as no morale or behavior problems within the unit can be linked to it?"

"Yes to the former, but..." Sam made a waffling motion with her hand. "The second one _is_ more flexible, but only to an extent. For a unit like Stargate Command and after I was _just_ promoted?"

"Why don't you just let somebody know higher up? Doesn't Jack have a red phone? I'd imagine that would get you a green light," Daniel said dryly.

"Yeah, but for that kind of patronage...it could really create a black mark on my record," Sam protested.

"Sam, don't doubt yourself. Your record speaks for itself, and any detractors can just...suck it," Daniel said, finally discovering the best way to word his feelings on the matter.

Sam's mouth curled into a smile. "Think so?"

"Know so, and so do you. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

The blonde nodded, biting her lip, and was obviously thinking hard on the decision she had to make. "Okay," she said softly, then in a firmer, happier tone, "okay."

"Now go, call the team and 'the girls'," Daniel ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Sam said, smiling and giving him a lazy mock salute.

#

"Well, _that_ was fun," Jack muttered. "So, still a good idea to let the Blue One through the gate?" he asked his audience of three.

Faith, Buffy, and their incredibly anti-charming Old One companion had left just a few minutes ago, leaving the members that had once comprised the SG-1 team deep in thought about Oma and Illyria's revelations.

"Sounds like there isn't a good answer, Jack," Daniel said unhelpfully. "Though I think it's odd that the Powers that Be would be overt in their actions, even if its just to assist the Ancients in getting in contact with me. If the bad guys like Wolfram & Hart knew of this situation, which I imagine they must to some degree, I wonder what they'd make of it."

"It's probably not the greatest idea to try to understand the inner thought processes of a cabal of evil interdimensional demons," Jack said dryly, "it's bad for the noggin'."

Sam smiled at that. "Still, I have to say that we've uncovered a treasure trove of information, knowledge of a history that we'd never have learned without Illyria and the reaction to her presence from the remaining Great Races."

"Yeah, and now we know why the Furlings are so scarce," Daniel grimaced, the others joining to share his displeasure.

"Given that they, the Nox, and the Asgard were the ones who created the Deeper Well, with the Furlings being the primary architects, it's not surprising that the Old Ones would seek retribution," Sam said.

They all shuddered. When the Alterans had returned approximately 100,000 years ago, they had been far better prepared to fight the Old Ones than before. The Alterans came back and with them their desire to return to Earth, to find out if their descendants still lived. The Alliance of Four Great Races had not been built for the express purpose of the Alteran's war, but it was a factor. The Alliance's ability to collaborate and share resources and knowledge gave them an edge against the isolated, territorial beings that held dominion over the world. It was the Furlings who conceptualized the Deeper Well, who convinced the other races to undertake the massive effort, and they who worked with the Nox to capture the Old Ones' essences after their bodies were destroyed in battle.

Illyria had revealed that when the Old Ones had discovered they could be rendered effectively dormant if held within the Deeper Well, they had sought their 'retribution'. The Old Ones had been nearly contained by that point, lesser ones destroyed outright in battle by the Alterans or Asgard, the greater ones entombed in the Well or driven to other dimensions. Illyria had stated that the Old Ones had never truly thought of their conflict as a war and the legions the Old Ones had set forth were rarely coordinated with one another. The Old Ones fought because they loved the battle, the violence caused in their wake, and the Alliance of Four Great Races presented a new challenge to their dominance. Illyria's own fate was evidence of her claim that even in the midst of their ongoing battles against the Alliance, they continued to betray and war against one another with equal fervor.

The retribution against the Furlings was one of the few cooperative efforts the ancient demons had taken during the course of the war. A number of the remaining free Old Ones were the ones who took it upon themselves to dispense their vengeance. Illyria had been betrayed shortly after the group had ventured forth, but she was aware when the counterstroke was delivered. The Old Ones had used the Stargate system to map their way to the Furling's homeworld and had traveled there using their own power and magicks.

Those Old Ones, like Illyria had once been capable of, possessed the ability to project and manipulate energy. After their arrival to the Furling's homeworld, the Old Ones had utilized that talent by focusing it on the planet's core. The reaction was reminiscent of Netu's destruction at the hands of the Tok'ra, even if accomplished through different methods. The focused energy caused the core to ignite, resulting in the planet itself exploding. The fate of the Old Ones who perpetrated the act is unknown, though Illyria had suggested that they had been planning to leave the dimension once the Furlings had been punished.

It was a terrifying thought that there had once been beings who could possess that level of power, a power not harnessed by millions of years of evolution and technological development, but instead one contained naturally within the flesh and spirit. It was just as devastating to know that the power used to destroy the Furling homeworld had left a wound in the Furling racial memory so deep that the species remained reclusive to this day.

The whole story spun by Illyria and tied in by Oma's conversation with Daniel was terrifying, in fact. It was his decision, Jack knew, about whether he should allow Illyria to go through the Gate or have her remain on Earth. And that it was his advice which might lead to an effort to destroy her, though the method of doing so hadn't been thought out yet. It was a burden of his obligations to Earth that the fact Faith was almost certain to be among the "collateral damage" couldn't be allowed to affect his final decision. Not about something that had mystical and interstellar powers making their concerns known.

"Well?" Daniel asked.

"I don't like being told what to do, or what we _should_ do," Jack said after a minute. "If the Ascended jerks want something, they can put down their pancakes and waffles and get off their butt and do it themselves."

"Alright then," Sam murmured, a light curl to her lips.

"Indeed," Teal'c added with the barest hint of his own smile.

* * *

 **Two days later...  
December 6th, 2005**

"So you finally got tired of us, huh?" Roger Watts asked, bumping his beer into Faith's.

"Pretty sure _us_ just means _you_ , Watts," Jessica laughed.

"Nah," Faith said, smiling. "I couldn't ever get tired of you guys."

"Atlantis," Henry Boyd said, raising his bottle in the air.

The others followed his example, clinking bottles together in a toast.

"It's a shame though," Boyd said seriously. "I was looking forward to having you on the team. Who else will get me stinking drunk and take pictures of me after drawing on me and applying makeup? And sending them to my _wife_!"

Faith smirked as the others laughed. "Don't worry guys, I'll be back. Think something like a little galaxy would stop me from coming back?" Faith waved a hand, making a dismissive sound.

Watts turned to check the grill outside while Boyd and Jessica continued the banter. Faith laughed and took the time to thank anyone that was listening for providing her these friends for the last two years.

"Where's 'tiny-but-fierce'?" Jessica asked as Watts came back with a large platter of burgers and grilled buns.

 _The man can be a spaz_ , Faith admitted to herself, _but damn if he can't grill._ "She's in Scotland, saying her goodbyes. I'm flying up tomorrow to join her."

Three pairs of eyes blinked at her.

"Where is she going?" Watts asked slowly, frowning.

Faith took a sip of beer, waiting for the others to do likewise. "Atlantis." The three fits of coughing and spluttering that followed were like music to her ears.

"Bullshit," Watts called.

Faith smiled.

Jessica whistled a long, appreciative note. "Whose ass did you have to kiss to swing _that_?" Jessica asked with raised eyebrows.

Faith just shrugged. "She already had clearance."

"You bitch," Watts complained without any rancor, "you're taking my future girlfriend away!"

Boyd and Faith snorted, the latter of whom said, "Watts, she's already been claimed. Find a new girl to creep on."

"Claimed?" Boyd asked, shooting a startled look at Faith.

"Multiple times," Faith confirmed

"You bitch," Roger Watts repeated.

"Get it, girl," Jessica crowed, giving Faith a fist bump.

"Now let's eat, I'm starving," Faith said, loading up a burger.

"Wouldn't think you'd be all that hungry, Faith, not with all the eating you've reportedly been doing," Watts observed with a leer.

Faith barked out a laugh while Jessica spat out the mouthful of beer she'd been about to swallow.

"I'm surrounded by children," Boyd complained, though he was obviously struggling to keep the amusement from his face.

Faith sat at the dining room table in Jack's home with the others and smiled, enjoying the food, the banter, and the friends.

* * *

"I'm leaving."

Her comment was met with a roomful of confused looks.

"But you just got here," Cordelia protested.

Buffy rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. "Illyria, Faith, and I are leaving. We may not be coming back for a while. Maybe not at all."

Silence. A silence that soon turned into an uproar as those gathered around the table in the "privacy room" absorbed the new information.

Buffy waited till the cacophony of protests and complaints finished before attempted to speak again. "It's already been approved by the government people and my decision has been made. I'm here to say goodbye and Faith will be here tomorrow to do the same."

As usual, it was the impeccably dressed Englishman who managed to collect himself first. Giles cleared his throat, "might I ask exactly where you plan to go?"

Buffy had admitted to herself that no matter how hard this was going to be, no matter how painful the goodbyes, she had been looking forward to answering that question. A small smile appeared on her face as she cleared her own throat. "Atlantis."

There was another moment of startled silence.

"So why wouldn't you be coming back?" Kennedy asked, "is it too deep or something?"

Willow looked like she was beginning to understand, but Buffy wanted to do the big reveal herself. "No. Atlantis isn't actually on Earth, Kennedy. It's on another world," she paused for effect, "in another galaxy."

"Eep!"

Willow's startled squeak made Buffy smile inwardly; she would miss that sound.

"Um...how'd that happen?" Xander asked.

"I must admit that the location of Atlantis, if the Air Force is indeed correct, doesn't explain our own legends of the lost city," Giles nodded in agreement.

"Unless the city could fly," Buffy countered.

"Bugger me, you're just making it up now," Spike accused.

"Ask Illyria," Buffy challenged.

"I believe we're getting distracted," Giles said calmly.

"Not that Atlantis, the flying city, isn't worth being distracted by," Angel added dryly.

"Quite so," Giles agreed.

"Yeah, I mean, I get why you'd want to go to _Atlantis_ , because I mean, who _wouldn't_ want to go? But wouldn't you rather be here? On Earth? Near us?" Willow asked.

Before Buffy tackled the question, Dawn asked her own. "If you can get there, why wouldn't you be able to come back?"

"Faith understands more about this than I," Buffy admitted, "but I think it's because we have the power _here_ to send us _there_ , but we would have to find another power source _there_ to send us _here._ "

Dawn nodded slowly before drawing her knees up to her chest. "When do you leave?" her sister asked quietly.

"In about a week," Buffy said, just as softly.

"Oh," Willow murmured, looking shocked.

"I'm telling you that I might not be coming back," Buffy repeated, "but it's also possible that we'll be able to return on our own within days of our arrival or that others can come get us." Buffy grinned suddenly. "I stood on a spaceship a couple of weeks ago. Two of them, actually. Got to meet Thor, dude goes totally in the buff like Faith said. Also apparently we have spaceships too."

"We've had them for decades, Buffy," Willow explained patiently.

"Not ones with shields and hyperspace thingies and," Buffy decided to emulate General Jack O'Neill for a moment, "big honkin' space guns!" She finished with her arms crossed, her smile smug.

"Dear lord!" Giles exclaimed.

"And there are the glasses..." Xander murmured as the Watcher proceeded to polish his glasses.

"So you're leaving then, are you?" Spike asked. He looked conflicted, his occasional glances toward Dawn clearly explaining why.

"It's not because of us...is it?" Dawn asked, indicating Spike with a nod.

"No pet," Spike said, keeping an eye on Buffy, "I imagine it doesn't help any, but something like this has been coming for a long time, and we all know it. Besides, if it were something that simple we'd have ourselves a little rumble all proper like and move on."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"So you'll be able and _willing_ to travel with Illyria?" Giles asked dubiously.

"Well, funny thing about Illyria," Buffy said, and proceeded to inform the gang of the newest developments between Illyria, Thor, and Oma, smiling at the occasional "bloody hell!" and "dear Lord!" exclamations.

Once Buffy had finished her story, the others looked absolutely stunned. Giles's glasses should have been sparkling given how many times they'd been polished and Willow was clearly in the throws of a mind-blowing nerdgasm.

"What about Faith? How is she doing? I'm assuming you've been working with her on this; is everything...alright?" the brooding vampire asked somewhat awkwardly.

It seemed that Angel, as usual, had been the only one to have given much of a thought to Faith. It was another reminder to Buffy that no matter how far they'd come along, there would always be a subtle animosity toward the so-called Dark Slayer. It was patently absurd given the various things they'd all done to each other at one point or another.

At Angel's question, she had opened her mouth to reply when she suddenly had flashbacks of the previous night's activities with the brunette. She felt her face warm. Faith hadn't lied, she really _did_ know how to go fast _and_ slow. Buffy cleared her throat, "yeah." She felt her face flush even more when her voice cracked. "Yeah," she repeated, "She's been really helpful about getting me up to speed on...stuff."

Angel and Spike were staring at her through narrowed eyes and Buffy wasn't quite able to meet their gazes. _Shit._

"So what's the plan?" Xander asked, "I mean you wouldn't just come up here to say that and leave, so what's the dealio?"

"No," Buffy agreed, "I want to have a party." After a moment, she crossed her arms and added defiantly, "with _beer!_ "

* * *

 **December 7** t **h, 2005**

When a giggling young Slayerette had led Faith into the castle, she hadn't thought anything of it. Honestly, the ungodly early hour and the equally ungodly long flight had taken most of it out of her. But when the silence of the halls of the castle began to permeate into her senses, her mind began to focus. The young Slayer-in-Training whose eyes were still filled with laughter roused her suspicions even further.

Faith heard a distant crash followed by a groan and then noticed the red plastic cups littering the hallway floor. The familiar scent of alcohol began to waft through the hall as she continued her trek into the bowels of Duart Castle. Faith began to smile, a slow thing that crept up her face that resolved itself into a smirk. _Must have been one_ hell _of a party_.

The Slayerette, Faith still couldn't remember her name, finally led her into one of the larger common rooms. Illyria was there, staring at the various bodies that were strewn about the floor with a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and disgust. Faith noted Willow and Kennedy curled together against a wall while Xander was sprawled out on the middle of the floor with an impressive looking black eye. There were glass fragments, the remains of a beer bottle being thrown or dropped, littering the ground beneath a makeshift dartboard.

Faith grinned at the sight of Andrew who was huddled in a corner, embracing a partial cardboard cut-out of Han Solo. There were a few other bodies lying about haphazardly, some sporting minor injuries, others displaying the indignities one might suffer after such an eventful night.

Faith saw Angel and Spike, sitting on the edge of a table, beers in hand, watching her as she made her entrance. Seeing their fingers pointing downwards, she bent slightly to see Buffy underneath the table. Her face was obscured, but the mass of unruly blonde hair could be no one else's. Creeping closer, she could hear just the tiniest of snores escaping her lips and clutched to her chest was a veritable mountain of empty beer bottles, as if she had been protecting them. Her shirt had been torn slightly at the shoulder while Buffy's pants had been removed completely. Those pants had been rolled up and were serving as her pillow, while Dawn helped cover Buffy's lower half with her own much more loudly snoring, drooling, form.

"A picture of grace and beauty, they are not," Spike observed, his English tones breaking the silence, despite the softness of his voice.

Beside him, Angel snorted and waved at her.

Faith shook her head, laughing quietly. She heard a quiet murmur and saw Cordelia in a comfortable looking chair where, rather than beer bottles, she clutched an expensive looking purse to her body.

"Wow," Faith breathed.

The two vampires both nodded and took another sip of their beers.

"Vamp constitution, huh?" Faith asked eyeing their sober forms.

"Bloody inconvenient at times," Spike confirmed.

"Then again," Angel said, "I don't envy them whenever they do regain consciousness."

"Dawn told me she could take me beer for beer," Spike said, smirk fully in place. "Poor little lamb said that the key energy would obviously protect her."

"She may have already been inebriated by that time," Angel added in the younger Summers sister's defense. " _Very_ inebriated."

Faith chuckled.

Spike hopped down from the edge of the table. "Alright Slayer, we want to talk to you for a moment without the others around to revert to their bloody teenage years."

Angel followed his childe and indicated to Faith that she should go with them. Faith quirked her eyebrow at him but did as he asked.

They had gone just a short distance away, Faith taking the lead to close the drapes over any open windows that might've allowed the rays of the rising sun to hamper the vampires' movements. Angel led her into a small room that held several bookcases, expensive looking standing lamps, and several recliners. It felt very posh, made more so by the paintings that decorated the wall along with subtle wall colors.

"This is where Giles goes when he needs a break from all of..." Angel waved a hand in a vague direction, "this."

"Bloke has to have the patience of a bloody saint to watch over this lot," Spike muttered.

"So," Faith asked, "what's the what?"

"Something Buffy said last night, or didn't say, she—"

Spike cut Angel off, "look Faith we just wanted to know. Are you and Buffy shagging?"

Angel looked annoyed but his inquisitive gaze remained locked on Faith.

Faith sat down in one of the chairs, resisting the urge to leave the room and slam the door in their faces. The two vampires followed suit, sitting in their own chairs. She wasn't sure what they were thinking, not from their expressions at least. Faith leaned back and sighed. _In for a penny..._ "Yes."

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered, "does that have anything to do with her decision to fly off with you to another galaxy?"

Faith grimaced. "In a roundabout way, sort of."

Spike glared at her.

Angel spoke softly, but steadily. "Faith, we just want to know."

"Why?" Faith challenged. "Both of you are already involved with someone. Someone like her _little sister_ , so why do you want to know?"

Spike looked embarrassed at the mention of Dawn, but he and Angel shared a look and simultaneously said, "because it's Buffy."

Faith opened her mouth and paused. "Okay, fair enough. Guess we're all a bit pussywhipped, huh?"

Angel gave her a pained look. "Please don't."

"What's wrong, Angel?" Faith asked in mock concern, "you look a little peaked, not getting enough to eat? I sure am!"

Spike groaned.

Angel glared at her and then suddenly went wide-eyed. "You! You ate the cookie!"

Faith blinked. "I'd say come again but that's been _my_ thing lately. So...huh?"

"You cheeky slag. You better hope Buffy doesn't find out what you're on about," Spike said, but the corners of his mouth had curled up.

Angel's glare hadn't abated. "You. Ate. The. Cookie."

"What _are_ you talking about, you ponce?" Spike asked, his baffled expression mirroring Faith's.

Angel spoke, his eyes intent on Faith. "Right after Buffy killed Caleb—"

"The wanker," Spike muttered.

"She and I talked," Angel continued, ignoring Spike. "About us, about her. She said that she wasn't done yet, that she was still cookie dough. She needed time to grow, to bake. Time until she was ready to be a cookie and be—"

Spike burst out laughing. Faith joining in a heartbeat later. Angel lost his grip on whatever annoyance he had felt and finally started laughing too.

It took them a minute or two to finally settle down, minutes that were occupied by moments of near calm that were broken by a single titter or chuckle that set them off again. It felt good, Faith thought, to be able to laugh like this and with these people. To be able to smile at one of the possibly final memories she might have of them. When they'd finally come down the from the high the laughter had produced, both vampires caught her gaze once again.

"Look Faith, about Buffy—"

"Angel," Faith interjected, "if you're about to tell me not to hurt her, you are _years_ too late, but I won't do so intentionally again."

"Although the bird doesn't mind a little pain now and again," Spike observed, a smile flashing on his face for a moment.

Faith gave him an interested look. "Noted."

"Oh god, please stop," Angel said with a groan.

"Angel, I guarantee you that _that_ particular phrase is one B has _never_ used with me," Faith said, starting to laugh again.

Angel growled as Spike laughed with her. "I hate you both."

"No you don't, Angel," Faith said, smiling warmly. "You knew me better than I knew myself all those years ago and you've kept a better eye on me than anyone else here. I don't know if we'll be forever, Buffy and I, but I do know that whatever we have now, it's a good thing. I haven't had a lot of good things in my life and I'm not going to fuck this one up." She paused for a moment. "Part of what has her coming with me also helped us...you know, connect or whatever, I took her to Caritas when she came to Colorado Springs."

Angel's expression became pinched with a fusion of guilt and regret. "How's Lorne?"

"It's a struggle running a 'fabulous' demon bar without a whole lot of demons about, but he makes do," Faith answered. "Some of the more peaceful demons have been moving closer, for advice or for occasional shelter. It's not all glitter and jazz like I hear the last one was, but it'll get there."

Spike nodded. "Good for him. So what did he have to say about our girl?"

Faith didn't bother to dispute the 'our' part. "Lorne told _me_ that I'd be going far away and for a long time."

"Atlantis," Angel murmured.

Faith nodded. "I didn't hear what he said to B, but she told me that the only way for her to be truly happy was if she came with me." The vamps looked skeptical and Faith didn't blame them. "Look, ask B, I don't know much more than that."

Angel nodded and then regarded her for a moment. "So you're going to a different galaxy," Angel said softly.

"Yep."

"I feel like I should be more in awe than I actually am," Spike frowned.

"Shit Spike, you became a vampire, later regained your soul, burned alive, got yourself resurrected, went all Casper on us, got rematerialized or whatever, and then spent your idle time trying to beat up Illyria." Faith shrugged. "New galaxy, that's just chump change."

"Atlantis," Angel murmured again.

" _That_ bit, I admit, has me more than a little gobsmacked," Spike said with a low whistle and a shake of his head.

Faith just nodded.

"Well," Spike said, "I may not be a soulless creature any longer, but that doesn't mean I don't delight in the suffering of others from time to time. If I can't get properly soused then I can at least have the pleasure of introducing the others to their morning hangover."

Angel looked interested but remained seated, "I think I'll stay here."

"Coward," Spike accused and left the room whistling a jaunty tune.

Faith winced. "That's not going to end well."

Just a few minutes later, a horrendous banging suddenly filled the castle accompanied by shouts and jeers delivered in Spike's familiar English accent. Faith went to poke her head outside and saw Spike standing in the entrance of the common room everyone had passed out in. He was laughing while slapping two pots together. Seeing her, he shot her a quick wink only to be distracted by the knife that buried itself in his shoulder. Spike was nothing if not persistent, however, and continued his revelry

Faith ducked back inside and shut the door. "Wow."

Angel shrugged with a slight smile but his grew. "Be happy, Faith, you both deserve it. Be safe, and make sure you come back."

Faith went to him and did something uncharacteristic and hugged him. Not a hard or fierce one, but a gentle embrace. "I will big guy, I will. Take care of the others for her, and take care of yourself."

The vampire returned her embrace and nodded.

* * *

Rupert Giles sat in a comfortable chair in his bedroom, smiling as he heard Spike poke at the proverbial bee hive. He shook his head; that vampire positively _thrived_ on mischief, soul or no soul. He turned his attention to the table in front of him which had upon its surface a report delivered to him by Faith. A report that had been written by Dr. Daniel Jackson, and collaborated with Faith.

To say it was fascinating would be a understatement. It was world changing, especially to a man like him who had been practically raised to be a Watcher. Learning the exact origins of humanity, of the Slayer, it was a priceless gift. It represented so much, this information, fundamental changes to their understanding of their universe and their place in it. He imagined that this was how most mundanes felt when they first learned of the supernatural.

It was shocking how much sense some of what he read made when tying it to the legends and lore that had been passed down for centuries. These Alterans who had been left on Earth millions of years ago had essentially been left on their own, losing much of their ability to create and repair their existing technology. Over the millions of years that followed, it's not surprising that the abandoned Alterans had become something closer to primitive humans. The explanation for how 'mortal animals' like mankind were able to drive the Old Ones out was so much more plausible with the new information about this 'Alliance of Four Great Races'.

Other legends, more lore, all made clearer or better explained. It was an influx of knowledge the likes of which the Watcher's Council had never seen in his lifetime, and likely far beyond that.

Giles reached for his tumbler only to discover that the scotch was gone. While he had refused to get 'jiggy wit it', he had poured himself a scotch when he had began to read that report. That tumbler had been refilled more than a few times as the hours had passed.

The report itself was well written, well thought out, and well presented. It was an obvious overture from the archaeologist to establish some form of dialog, perhaps collaboration for future works. There _were_ obvious gaps in the man's knowledge of the supernatural world, knowledge that Faith had attempted to impart, but there were mistakes or details missing. Details that might allow Daniel, to allow humanity, to be given a clear glimpse into its past and possible even to its future. Perhaps he ought to follow Fred and Willow's example and trust these people enough to work with them.

He sighed and glanced at a picture that stood next to the report on the table. A precious belonging that he had brought with him to England after Buffy had died jumping off that tower. Rupert gazed at the faces of those teenagers, so young and happy. They were all his children, in their own way, and sometimes he forgot everything that had happened and remembered them only as they appeared in this picture. The Scoobies. Everyone was in that picture, even Cordelia and Oz. But not Faith. He supposed it was an accurate tableau for the obvious metaphor. Giles had enjoyed many successes in his life, but there were glaring faults as well. One of them was Faith.

In the center of that picture was Buffy, a representation of everything good that had ever come from him. A girl he'd watched over, helped guide, and helped teach her to be a better Slayer. A women who didn't trust him as she once had, not since she turned 18 and not since he'd worked with Robin to kill Spike.

Faith and Buffy...

The two girls contrasted so well. They always had. Kendra had been jarring, an effective Slayer loyal to the Council, almost to a fault. Off putting and standoffish, But Faith...

Seeing Faith return to the fold had been a good moment in the midst of the terrifying struggle with the First, however it had also been a reminder that it had taken a vampire to finally reach out and save her from herself. Perhaps it was just his ego that smarted. But regardless of the complicated history he enjoyed with each girl, he now faced a situation that would have him saying goodbye to two women who had both affected him profoundly.

Giles sighed. Training as a Watcher, he had been taught that he would eventually have to do just that, to watch his Slayer die, to _let_ her die even. But he had discovered years ago that with Buffy, he didn't want to have to say goodbye and now it looked like he might just have to.

* * *

 **December 9th, 2005**

Faith sat next to Buffy, watching the clouds as the Boeing 777 climbed into the sky. Buffy had been on a plane more than a few times, but her? Not until the first time she flew to Scotland about a year ago, and only once since then. It was a simple joy to watch the ground fall away from you, to see everything turn so small, and watch as the clouds began to surround you and enfold you. Buffy had been happy to give the window seat to Faith, and so she took advantage of the view available to her.

When the ground was no longer visible, she turned to see Buffy looking at her strangely.

"What?" Faith asked, feeling embarrassed for some reason.

Buffy smiled. "You looked...I don't know, happy, I guess."

"Seems stupid to be hyped up over being 30,000 feet in the air considering where we're going, huh?" Faith asked.

"Nah," Buffy protested, "it doesn't. You told me that you'd only flown a couple times before but it didn't really click."

Faith shrugged. "Didn't get much chance when I was just a wee little one." She added the Irish accent to the last words, making Buffy smile.

Buffy put a hand on her knee, idly drawing slow invisible circles with a finger. "It's..." she paused and bit her lip.

"What B?"

"Angel knows more about you and your past than anyone and I forget that sometimes." Buffy paused. "Will you tell me too?"

"What? Now?" Faith blinked, tensing at the subject despite her confusion.

"No, not here!" Buffy hissed, "in private!"

"Y'all don't have to worry about me," a southern accented voice cut it. "I have plenty of things to amuse myself with."

Faith shared a commiserating look with Buffy. They both understood that translated into something closer to: "Your past is of no interest to me and your weak human emotions are a hindrance for you and a burden for me. You are but muck to me, etc."

"No," Buffy said, "not now, just...you know...eventually?"

"Yeah, I'll tell you more," Faith said quietly. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Faith asked, "are _you_ alright?"

Buffy let out a deep breath. "No," she admitted, "but I will be. Saying goodbye isn't much fun."

"Bet Cordelia reminding you of the lack of shopping opportunities on another planet didn't help," Faith observed with a smile.

"No, no it didn't," Buffy pouted.

"It was a good goodbye though, ya know? No drama, just...goodbye."

Buffy nodded, "Spike had said that they were all expecting something like this at some point. Well not like _this_ you know, but something that would have me leaving them behind."

"The vamp might act like a punk, but you don't get to be close to two centuries old without some smarts." Faith took hold of the hand Buffy had placed on her knee and squeezed it. "For what its worth, B, I'm glad you're coming with me and that you finally baked."

Buffy gave her a confused look.

Faith smirked, "Angel said something about cookie dough and baking?"

Buffy's eyes went big, "you guys—he said _that_!"

"Oh yeah," Faith said, smile writ large on her face, "While you were doing your sleeping beauty impression on the floor after the party, the vamps and I chatted."

Buffy groaned. "Beer bad. Bad, bad beer. Ugh, so what did you even talk about?"

"How much I like eating your cookie."

Buffy went red and stared at her, "ugh, you're as bad as the guys. What'd you do, compare notes?"

"Spike _did_ say a little pain could flip your switch," Faith said with a contemplative tone.

Buffy blushed even harder.

"We could have just whipped it out and measured but I didn't have mine with me," Faith said, sounding morose.

" _Shut up!_ " Buffy hissed at her, but she was smiling.

"I agree," Illyria said in her Fred voice, "I have to say this conversation has me feeling a little ill."

Faith and Buffy smiled at each other and leaned back to enjoy the plane ride still holding hands.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** In this chapter, I spent a lot of effort at trying to portray Illyria well. Even at the beginning of Angel, it was noted that Illyria was extremely talented at understanding human dynamics and social interactions if not the daily minutia they spent their time on. I tried to exemplify that while still throwing out scenes like the fishing comment. By the end of the comics where she sort-of dies, she was willing to sacrifice herself to save humanity which is a 100% turnaround from where she started. She is a character capable of growth, albeit slow growth. I plan to allow the character growth as well, though in what direction and to what extent, I do not know. So far, this chapter should also indicate that many if not most of her thoughts still revolve around her or about her ability to control others/herself. Her role will be expanding in part three.

Regarding who knows what: the way things have played out in my mind, the SGC people are far more aware of the supernatural world than the Scoobies/Slayers are aware of the Stargate/extraterrestrial encounters. That is due in large part to Faith's presence on the doorstep of the SGC. I just couldn't see Faith calling the Scoobies to make her daily reports, you know? So even though the main Scoobies know about the Stargate and maybe some of the other big things, they aren't actually kept abreast of it all.

I hope my attempt to explain the Slayer, the origins and lineage works with you guys. I didn't want to make it _just_ a magic thing, or _just_ a technology thing. I wanted the PtB to be involved, but were obviously not solely responsible for given the whole Shadow Men thing. Hope it works for you.

The loranites were a group referenced by Urkonn, a character from one of the comics. The reference is from this quote: " _...Eventually, as mortal animals evolved, under the protection of certain mages and loranites..."_ As far as I know, there has never been any explanation as to what they are so I figured, what the hell, make them the Nox who had already been involved with man at that point.

I thought my story about the Old Ones and the Furlings was a good way to convey some of the more major acts so it didn't seem like it was all a bunch of knife fights in dark alleys. I thought it was a good idea not only because it helped explain the scarcity of the Furlings but to also help emphasize the scale of the conflict and the power of the Old Ones. We know that Illyria was immensely powerful when she first re-entered our realm and she wasn't even in her original form with the full extent of her strength. I tried to imagine how a group of them might best respond to the actions of the Furlings and voila. *shrug* I liked writing the scenario.

Regarding the timeline: To explain the timeline and how it interacts with this chapter and the events described, I wanted to elaborate a little.  
* **20-10 million years ago (MYA):** Alterans arrive on Earth, populate it, build their city-ships, etc.  
* **10-5 MYA:** Alterans presence has grown signficantly on Earth. Alterans had made contact with the Nox and Asgard. Alterans discover the Hellmouth and the unique properties of the planet's interactions with other dimensions.  
\- Alterans move into the Hellmouth's vicinity, destroying the beasts (demons) that had guarded it.  
\- The Old One closest to the Hellmouth, Vrill, discovered the Alterans and the extent of their spread across the world. Vrill developed the plague (through unknown means) and released it upon the Alteran population  
\- Alterans suffer from the plague and in their haste to search for a cure, learn where it developed. They discover the Old Ones and their power. As the Alterans search for a cure, a war between the Old Ones and the Alterans begins. The Nox, working with the PtBs, work with the Alterans to create the first Slayer. Sineya and the others Chosen after her death become one of the tools best suited for dealing with many of the demon threats when advanced technology and weaponry becomes ineffective. Shortly after this time, the plague has become too virulent and widespread to be contained any longer.  
\- Most Alterans ascend or move to the Pegasus galaxy. Plague carriers remain on Earth as does the Slayer and a number of Alterans who had proved somewhat resistant to the disease (Slayer lineage + the randoms)  
* **100,000 BC:** Alterans return from Pegasus galaxy. Alterans form the Alliance of Four Great Races. The alliance is not strictly military in nature, used mostly for knowledge and information sharing. However the various allies are tapped by the Alterans for assistance in reclaiming the Earth.  
\- The Nox's willingness to intercede is already somewhat understood. The Asgard and the Furlings less so. I'm not planning getting into that, but I'm going to assume the "massive danger to multiple dimensions" that the Old Ones present was at least some motivation to investigate or confront them.  
* Alterans discover that the descendants of the ones left behind millions of years ago are alive, protected by the Nox, the Slayer, and the magic taught to them by the agents of the Powers that Be.  
 **100,000 BC - 10,000 BC:** The war between the Old Ones, the Alterans, and the other Great Races. The Alterans, the Slayer, and the Asgard provide much of the physical might while the Nox, Furlings, and the PtB's assist on the more mystical theatre.  
\- At some point, the Furlings conceptualize the Deeper Well and enlist the aid in the other Races to create it. (I imagine the Asgard or the Alterans would be best suited for drilling a hole through the world?)  
\- Old Ones are gradually destroyed and entombed within it, preventing them from manifesting again. Others are gradually driven from the dimension, by force or willingly.  
\- Old Ones discover the existence of the Deeper Well but have been significantly weakened by infighting and their ongoing battle with the Four Races. The Furlings learn who is responsible for the creation of it and destroy the Furling's homeworld. (I stated earlier that this was close to the end of the war)

On a more technical question: I still don't quite understand how "ascended" is supposed to be properly capitalized. I've seen the very to be _usually_ lowercase, and the noun to be uppercase, bu it isn't always consistent. Anyone have a better idea on that?


	20. The Lost City

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Ten**

 _ **The Lost City**_

* * *

 **the DragonBard:** It might be a result of my own flawed understanding, but I interpreted the history (and the Buffy wiki) of the Old Ones and the PtBs as such: Jasmine _did_ say or suggest that the Powers that Be were a group of Old Ones who actively worked together, seeking to do "good", but were driven out by the more aggressive and powerful Old Ones. _However_ , later in the comics it was stated that the Old Ones were brought from a different dimension because of the Seed of Wonder, which is how they came to share the Earth with the PtBs. This would suggest that the PtBs had already been there. By the first theory of their relationship, you would be correct. But in all honesty, I just couldn't see uber powerful demons suddenly deciding they wanted to fight for all that was good and right.  
As to how that relates to to the Stargate Universe, the first interpretation of the relationship between Old Ones and the PtBs is almost identical to that of the Lanteans and Ori. Their shared ancestry all the way to the Alteran race splitting into each faction as a result of philosophical differences. Even the exodus of the PtBs is mirrored by that of the Lanteans. It really is an astonishingly close comparison.  
But with the PtBs and the Old Ones, I just didn't like the notion of them being two sides of the same coin and am actively choosing to use the new canon established by the comics (which I don't think is actually canon, but Joss Whedon still has an active hand in it, so fuck it).  
 **HowlnMadHowie:** I remember watching that episode and I laughed _really_ hard when Buffy threw that one out there. I thought it was too much fun and too apt a reference to ignore. As for the Wraith and PtB? My thinking was that the PtB and supernatural world is focused on Earth for all the dimensional-y reasons stated before. I thought a different galaxy might be a little farther than they cared to go and that the only way they'd know is if any returning Lanteans told them, which I doubt happened.  
 **Sorentia:** Yeah, in the later stages of part two I started realizing that, even if the story and writing was good, there wasn't actually much happening. I mean, there's an obvious direction the story is taking but yeah, you're right, no action. That'll change with the first few chapters of part three, so hang on! I'm also not a big fan of the PtBs being the champions of justice and the American way and all that, but they come pretty close. They do a lot more good, albeit indirectly, as a group than the Ascended beings do for the Stargate universe (excluding Merlin, Morgan La Fey, Oma, Orlin), that's for sure.

* * *

#

 **December 11th, 2005  
** _(Two days before Atlantis dialing attempt)_

Faith stood in her kitchen with her arms crossed, looking around her apartment, her very empty apartment, with conflicting emotions. Enlisting the aid of Boyd and his minions, most of her belongings had been packed and stuffed into storage, courtesy of Uncle Sam and the American taxpayers. Only a few things remained, those being that which she needed to sustain herself for what might be her last days on Earth as well as the items she and Buffy were packing into the containers assigned to them.

No unnecessary items, pack what you need and don't bring too many personal belongings, they'd been told. Faith laughed at the memory of Buffy's outraged expression when she'd been told that any more than three pairs of shoes were considered excessive unless they served a specific purpose. Fashion, Buffy had discovered, was not one such purpose.

However the blonde had been _somewhat_ mollified when Faith pointed out that Illyria didn't actually need to bring anything seeing as how she could change her form and all. The extra space had been claimed by Buffy with a swiftness that was either laughable or terrifying.

The single object Illyria _did_ bring was a small pot of soil that contained several small stalks of bamboo. Carter had suggested that bringing a plant native to Earth might have unintended consequences in a non-terrestrial environment, like introducing an invasive species, however Illyria had countered in her usual cool, measured, disdainful voice. "I hear the song of the Green, and it hears me. They will obey my will."

Yeah, that _hadn't_ been the reassurance Carter had sought.

Faith sighed quietly. Her life that she'd made for herself was mostly packed away now and that knowledge filled her heart with...well a lot of things. Loss, obviously. Pride that she'd had anything worth feeling loss over in the first place, and a whole mess of other fleeting sentiments.

Buffy was currently away, picking up a package that the Scoobies had sent them as a final goodbye. Faith had admitted to herself that she wouldn't mind a little magical support and hoped the Red Witch had packed some goodies of her own. Willow had become scary powerful and now that she was less inhibited, less afraid of turning to the Dark Side, she had been proving herself capable of some truly amazing feats of magic. She wouldn't mind bringing one such feat with her, not at all.

Bringing weapons had become something of a cloudy issue as well to the Slayers, not because of privacy concerns or their desire to remain unnoticed for what they were, but more as a matter of practicality. While Buffy had given the Scythe, and with it the position of Head Slayer, to Kennedy, that hadn't stopped either Buffy or Faith from wanting to bring the rest of their arsenals with them. It had been Faith who observed that a P90 was just as capable of putting holes in things as the twelve daggers, dirks, stilettos, and kukris they'd collectively owned. There had even been a bone kris stylized with inlaid silver of unknown supernatural origins that Faith had picked up from Lorne as a going away present. The Host of Caritas had patted her cheek and told her that it would give her luck, so Buffy and she had compromised so that both the kris and one of the more impressive daggers belonging to Buffy were packed away.

Then the arguments about the swords, crossbows, and whatever mystical literature she possessed had started. Faith didn't think Buffy really understood how much her life was about to fundamentally change. The blonde might have learned a few words in foreign or alien languages, and she might have learned how to tolerate and use various types of firearms. She had even said goodbye to her nearest and dearest, but Faith still believed Buffy had been trapped by the mantle of the Slayer for so long that she couldn't really process the reality they were soon to face.

It wasn't denial, Faith knew, and whatever had happened on Thor's ship _had_ made a huge difference in this internal struggle of Buffy's, it was that Buffy was a Slayer and she'd been so deeply immersed in it that every problem looked like a vampire to be slayed. The idea of letting someone else be in 'command' over her or of fighting in ways that didn't bring you face to face with genuine Evil was almost foreign.

From what she'd heard of SG-1 and SG-10's various missions, that very thing had happened more than a few times. Her hope was such a scenario didn't occur. Hopefully there wouldn't be _any_ fighting. Or if there was, it would be against monsters that they could easily label as evil or at least truly bad. But she really didn't want Buffy to be placed into a situation where she had to hurt or kill a human because their interests, which may be understandable or even agreeable, created a conflict with the expedition's.

 _Please don't let Buffy regret this_ , she prayed.

Faith noticed Illyria staring at her, looking unusually contemplative. "What?" she asked.

Illyria cocked her head slightly.

It was still unnerving how...alien she could be sometimes, even more so when she donned Fred's appearance as she'd been doing more and more lately. Her reasoning when asked was that if she was forced to "crawl with the muck" than she would have to learn to "crawl more effectively" to avoid having the two Slayers ostracized and thereby limiting her own actions because of carelessness.

Angel had told her how Illyria had been able to impersonate Fred well enough to fool the physicist's own parents when they'd met and was able to emulate the girl just as well since then. But there were the moments where the disconcerting _otherness_ of Illyria always crashed that illusion.

Faith decided to take a different track. "What do you think will happen when we get to Atlantis?" Then a sudden thought occurred to her. "Wait, have you ever used a Stargate?"

Illyria curled her lip. "I had no such need for the primitive methods of the Alterans in order to travel, however I did use the Astria Porta on one occasion, though it required shifting my form in order to do so."

"And?" Faith asked, curiosity piqued.

Illyria's eyes, even if they were Fred's, looked so ancient at that moment, ancient and filled with longing. "When the Alterans returned to Earth after Vrill's plague had driven them away, they did so without Atlantis. However the Alterans had built many such vessels, some of which were used to bring them back to this world. My kind never bothered to learn or understand their Gate system and that ignorance was noted and used by the Alterans.

"I found it interesting that beings of so little power were able to accomplish such things using only their knowledge of their physical world. And so I endeavored to discover more about the Astria Porta and its inner workings. Pain can be a great motivator when seeking such information and while they were considerably more advanced than the muck are now, pain was still felt keenly by them. Their desire for a quick and relatively painless death was often all the incentive needed for them to tell me what I wished to know. The Alterans believed us ignorant or incapable of using their Gate system, but they were not so foolish as to leave it entirely unprotected. I learned that the primary defense of the Astria Porta was the energy shields the Alterans favored so much."

Illyria smiled then, a cold smile, "the Alterans had made the manipulation of energy and matter into a science. But to my kind, Slayer, the manipulation of energy, magic, and matter were the immutable facts of our existence. Power was something we lived and breathed, something that was art when compared to the Alterans' crude application of their science.

"I stepped through an Astria Porta that had been gifted to me as spoils of war on another world, I altered the flow of time even as I felt myself collide with their shield and begin to disintegrate. But I am no mere half-breed, Slayer, I am an Old One and so I shattered their energy shield and forced the Astria Porta to remain open while my legions poured forth to set upon the city-ship of Lyonesse. It was glorious, the slaughter that followed, true beauty."

Faith looked at her with wide eyes. "Huh," she said neutrally, not knowing what else to say. "Um, do you think you being there might trigger something? You know, being an Old One setting foot in their city potentially seeking to do glorious slaughter and all?"

Illyria pursed her lips. "It is impossible to say. We may know the location, but we do not yet know if Atlantis is accessible." Illyria paused and added, "or if it is inhabited by those who might still fear my name."

"Atlantis was left behind in Pegasus when they came back, right? Means they wouldn't have quite as much experience with the Old Ones, probably wouldn't have any...traps?"

"Unlikely, but for all that they were muck, Alterans _could_ be exceedingly clever," Illyria admitted. "I remember such a trap when one of my kind, and not one counted among the weak, was caught in the path of an activating Astria Porta. The ensuing vortex caught him unprepared and resulted in him dying a true death."

"Well," Faith said, "let's hope the Ancients on Atlantis weren't the exceedingly clever type."

"Hope," Illyria repeated, sounding utterly contemptuous at the notion.

Any further words of disgust, scorn, and condescension Illyria had been about to say were halted by the sound of a car door slamming and the footfalls on the stairs. The knocking on the door that followed had Faith opening the door allowing Buffy entrance into the apartment.

She was smiling and holding a medium sized, well sealed box. "Presents!" the blonde Slayer crowed.

* * *

A knock on the door prompted Dr. Elizabeth Weir to look up from the stack of request forms of varying nature she'd been looking over. A large number of those forms had originated from one Rodney McKay, making General O'Neill's previous offer of taking the man out behind the proverbial shed increasingly attractive. _And speak of the Devil..._

"General O'Neill, I apologize for the state my people are leaving your base in," she said with a smile.

The older man waved her comment off. "Truth be told, I've always been a bit of a slob. Way I see it, your people are making this place downright homey."

Weir gave the man a skeptical look. "How can I help you, General?"

The salt and pepper haired man in the green uniform gave her a dazzling smile. "I can't just be here to say hello? Can't be here just to catch up?"

Weir crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine," the general huffed, conceding defeat. "I wanted to talk about a few members of your expedition. First off," he raised a hand to forestall any impending words, "first off, Daniel will _not_ be joining you. You can't have him. He's mine."

Elizabeth's lips quirked. "Very well, General, I understand that he's...yours."

"Oh har har," O'Neill snarked. "Second, Sheppard is going?" O'Neill asked, the question sounding more like a statement.

"Yes," the diplomat stated firmly. "He has the highest aptitude for the chair test than anyone else, even more than the two mystery girls coming with Miss Burkle."

The older man nodded, rubbing a hand along his jaw in thought. "He's a good man, good soldier, but not always the greatest follower."

"We've already discussed this," Weir reminded him, "in Antarctica?"

"Right, the point I was trying to make, Dr. Weir, is that even if _you're_ okay with it, Sheppard will be catching a lot of flak from Sumner. And so will those two girls you mentioned. It's something to keep an eye on to make sure things run smoothly."

Weir narrowed her eyes. "You seem to have taken a very personal interest in those two girls. Why is it that you're putting so much effort into making sure they make it through that Stargate in two days' time?"

The general frowned and opened his mouth before closing it. To Weir's eye, the man seemed frustrated, obviously struggling about how to answer her question until he finally let out a long breath.

"Look Dr. Weir, _nobody_ else knows everything about them, not even Colonel Sumner, which is _not_ something I'm particularly happy about either. But these girls' secrets are theirs to share if they want and I'm not willing to break that trust. Dr. Weir, these girls would be incredibly helpful if you just gave them a chance."

"General O'Neill, I'll have you know that I've already taken the opportunity to speak with them and I have granted authorization for all three," Weir said before she leaned forward and spoke in a softer but firm tone. "I know you were keeping your cards close to your chest General O'Neill, but admitting that several of my expedition members will be embarking to Atlantis already keeping secrets that even a United States Air Force General is unwilling to divulge is...discomforting." Weir gazed at the man for another moment, weighing her words. "General, whatever it is that they are hiding, could it put my people in danger? I asked them this question and their response, like yours, was that they could help. I don't need a nonanswer, General, I need to know what I need to do to keep my people and the mission safe."

"Give them a chance, Dr. Weir. If you want your people safe, if you want to make sure their secrets won't threaten you, then give them a chance," Jack said earnestly. "Besides, if you let them help, you'll probably figure it all out anyways. They do subtle like McKay does suave."

Weir winced but couldn't help smiling at the dig. She tapped her fingers on the desk for a moment as she considered his words. She finally broke the silence when she asked another question. "And you include _Winifred Burkle_ as part of their group?" Elizabeth scoffed.

"Especially Miss Burkle, Dr. Weir, _especially_ her." Jack stayed silent for a moment before a sudden grin lit his face. "Tell me, Dr. Weir, what do you know about Faith Lehane's introduction to Stargate Command?"

"Nothing," Weir said, clearly unhappy about the fact, "and believe me I tried to find out how a young woman, practically a _girl_ , not to mention a convicted murderer turned fugitive who was then pardoned for unknown reasons was allowed access to this program."

Even in the face of her disgruntlement, the general kept smiling, though it had slipped momentarily at the mention of Faith Lehane's criminal record. "Do you know what the first thing Faith did when she and I first met?" he asked with a wistful tone.

Weir looked at him suspiciously. "No, General, why don't you tell me."

General O'Neill grinned. "Well, her first words were 'what the fuck?' and her first reaction had been to break my nose and knock me on my ass. Tell you something, Dr. Weir, if Thor hadn't been there after beaming her down, there would have been bodies on the floor, and none of them her's."

Weir's eyes flicked to his recently broken nose.

"No, this was the other one. To be fair, Miss Summers thought I was pulling a gun on her."

Weir's eyes narrowed. After a moment, she finally hissed, "what?" Though even she wasn't sure which story she was actually questioning.

"The only reason Faith was introduced to us was because Thor beamed her right into the SGC briefing room. She had no idea who we were, what a Stargate was, what Thor was, any of it. But Thor knew about her."

"Ho—" Weir stopped her question and took in the general's expression through narrowed eyes. "That's all you'll tell me then?"

O'Neill nodded.

"So Thor knows her? Knows her and brought her to the SGC?" Weir asked rhetorically, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't understand this, General, and I'm not usually one to question one of Earth's strongest and closest allies, not when you're behind them as well. But I sure hope you know what you're doing."

When he left, Elizabeth slumped slightly. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to recover her mindset and get back to work.

"He's not wrong, you know."

Weir visibly jerked and her eyes went round at the sound of the voice. She quickly glanced around the room before catching sight of the man, or being, who called himself Whistler. He wore the same clothes as before, the same brown fedora, the same thoughtful expression. Though surprised, she didn't panic this time, something her dignity thanked her for. "Who are you?"

"I told you, call me Whistler," he said with a smile.

"Yes, you told me what to call you, but what is your _name?_ "

"You couldn't pronounce it, pretty hard for anyone to pronounce unless they're a dolphin."

"You're not human," Weir stated, the slightest edge of accusation lacing her tone.

"Gee lady, what gave you that idea? Was it the unpronounceable name? No, it must have been the disappearing act," the man said sarcastically and without the slightest bit of hesitation.

Elizabeth sighed. "Then how about _what_ are you?"

"If you were hoping for an easy question, that ain't it. Depends on who you ask. To most, I'm a messenger. To others, I'm an abomination or even just a pain in the ass, but I could be described best as an agent of balance, if you will."

"Abomination sounds...harsh," she observed somewhat inanely.

"Yeah, well, them's the breaks," the man said with a shrug. "I help, I put things right, I make things stay...balanced."

"Wouldn't that imply you don't always help _?_ That sometimes the things you do we'd consider _bad_ in order to keep 'the balance'?" Weir suggested.

"Lady, you really think people need _help_ being bad? Those things I talked about when we first met, Elizabeth, those are the kinds of things I help balance out."

Elizabeth shook her head, trying to forget the images of monsters that the man had inspired. "Then why are you _here_ talking to _me_? If you know so much, then you must know I'm leaving with those girls, so why are you here? Why is everyone so interested in them?"

Whistler smiled suddenly, a smile that was there and gone like summer lightning. "Atlantis. Gotta say, no one quite expected you people to make it there this early, but the timing is rather auspicious for my superiors. Lots of things have been changin' here, kid, things people don't see, won't notice, but it's been huge. That balance, lady, is looking pretty good for the good guys right now.

"But now we got ourselves a little complication. And you, Dr. Weir, will have your own problems to deal with when you reach Atlantis. The way my superiors think...let's make our problem your solution, and your people might help our problem...change. They're very big on that sort of thing, my bosses. You know, fate, redemption, choice, all the good stuff."

"And just who are these superiors of yours?" Weir asked, still struggling to comprehend what he was saying but unwilling to let the chance slip to get more information.

Whistler shrugged, "depends on who—"

"—you ask," Weir finished sourly. "So you're here just to make sure we take your problem off your hands?"

"You think it's that simple? But you're getting there."

Weir rubbed her now throbbing temples. "O'Neill seemed to think Winifred Burkle might be the most dangerous of the three."

"I told you that he's not wrong," Whistler winked.

"How? How could _Winifred Burkle_ of all people, not a murderer or former asylum inmate be the most dangerous of the three? She's a physicist, for Christ's sake, what does she or any of them have to do with you?" Weir demanded.

"Told you it wasn't that simple, didn't I?" Whistler asked softly with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, Winifred Burkle died some time ago. Damn shame, too. The other two, they're the ones who are gonna help balance her out. Besides, Faith and Buffy, they might be going to a new galaxy, but I can pretty much guarantee you it'll feel just like home to them pretty soon. I told you Jack-o wasn't wrong, Elizabeth. Let them work for you, let them fight for you. It's who they are, _what_ they are."

Weir just looked at him before she pleaded, "I don't understand."

Whistler sighed as he stood up from the seat he'd taken. "Remember what I told you the last time we met? Right before I left?"

"Just accept it," Weir murmured.

"That's the ticket, lady. Sometimes learning to accept is even harder than learning how to fight. Just ask the blonde one about that, it's practically her life story." Whistler lifted his bare wrist as if to check the time before announcing, "well, Dr. Weir, I think this is goodbye. I have other errands to run and I think I've said all I can."

The man turned as if to make for the door but he paused. "One last thing, Dr. Weir. My bosses, they have a peculiar sense of humor, you know? They wanted me to inform you that, should any of your members be hijacked or kidnapped or whatever, you should make sure it's Fred Burkle. Even _they_ think it'd be hilarious."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply when there was a knock at the door. The door opened without her having a chance to respond, revealing a bickering Rodney McKay and Carson Beckett. When her eyes flicked to the spot Whistler had stood, she was more bemused than surprised to discover the spot was now empty.

Focusing on the arguing doctors, she tried not to think about a comment Whistler had made which had just registered. If Winifred Burkle had died, then what or who had she been speaking to?

Weir sighed as the argument about whether some of the medical equipment could be left behind in order to fit in more of the scientific equipment McKay stated were absolutely necessary. Weir rubbed her temples again and really wished she'd taken General O'Neill up on his offer about putting McKay down.

* * *

"General O'Neill?"

Jack looked up to see Colonel Sumner standing at attention, salute and all. _Ugh_. Jack answered the Colonel's salute with his own. "At ease. Shut up. Sit down."

Marshall Sumner was a marine to the bone; he shut up and he sat down as ordered.

"What can I do for you, Colonel?" O'Neill asked as he moved his hand in slow elliptical circles halfway hidden behind the desk.

"General, I wanted to...I...General, may I ask what you're doing?" Colonel Sumner asked, confused at Jack's hand motions.

"I can't do this goddamn thing," Jack groused, jerking his hand up to reveal a yo-yo. "I used to be able to yo-yo, but now I can't. I am _not_ getting old!"

"No sir," Sumner agreed obediently.

Jack's lips twitched. "You could be more enthusiastic about it."

Sumner raised an eyebrow and spoke louder, but just as blandly, "truly sir, you are the very picture of youth and vitality."

"And don't forget it!" Jack smiled. "Now what can I help you with?"

Sumner's own smile faded as he returned to the business at hand. He frowned. "I was told that as leader of the military contingent of the expedition, I would have leeway in assembling my own force. For the most part, that has been the case."

"For the most part," Jack echoed.

"Yes sir. General, you know why I'm here. One week ago you dumped three dossiers on my desk and told me that they were coming and to read up. Well, I put it off while I worked on all the other countless things that needed working on. See, I thought you _telling_ me they were coming implied, at the very least, they they were qualified individuals. I finished these dossiers, General, and with all due respect, what are you trying to pull?

"Take Major Sheppard for example. He might be a child genius when it comes to the CIA test and the Ancient's technology, but I cannot rely on a man who is willing to disobey a direct order. Then we have the blonde college dropout with exactly nothing but your recent physical and firearms tests and the presence of the ATA gene to recommend her. Miss Lehane...I don't know if she's better for having spent two years working up to this, or worse because she's a convicted murderer. Please, help me out on this, General," Sumner finished, visibly annoyed and confused.

Jack felt for the man, he really did. If it had been him on the other side of the desk, he knew he'd be raising one hell of a fuss about it, too. "Colonel, I'm tell you to take them because I sincerely believe they can help you. Major Sheppard is your average 'what you see is what you got' sort of a man. He's a good man, a good fighter, and Weir really wants him."

Sumner nodded, looking unhappy but at least mollified. "I grant you that everything on his record recommends him except for the incident in Afghanistan which landed him at McMurdo to begin with. But the girls?"

Jack sighed and leaned forward, speaking quietly. "Back in '99, there was a rogue NID unit. Hell, it was a rogue unit _of_ a rogue unit and it was based out of Sunnydale, California." Jack nodded when the man recognized the name of the city that became a sinkhole. "Buffy was 18 at the time and had attracted their attention. The unit decided they wanted to test her out for possible recruitment."

Sumner, to his credit, looked queasy at the prospect. "How did the NID...test her?"

"Not as bad as what you're thinking, probably. Buffy was told to evade an assigned Army SRT for as long as possible and to defend herself as best she could," Jack explained and added, "that SRT wasn't your ordinary Special Reaction Team either, they were reported to be as capable as any Special Operations force." Jack waited for the man to take that in and continued. "It took that team 42 minutes to _find_ her and it took her 28 seconds for her to neutralize _them_. She was 18, Colonel, and both she and Faith are capable of that performance."

Colonel Sumner tapped his fingers against the desk in thought. "What happened to the NID unit?"

"I can't tell you the specifics, but I can tell you that it backfired and that there was a 40% casualty rate."

"40%?" Sumner asked incredulously.

"The survivors reported that it would have been 100% if not for the intervention of one Buffy Summers."

Sumner considered his words, obviously trying to connect the new information with what he'd read in their records. "Are they disciplined?"

Jack laughed.

Sumner glared at him.

"You know Staff Sergeant Richards at the Academy?"

Sumner shrugged, "by reputation only."

"Ask him about his last paintball game with Faith, SG-10, and his cadets," Jack said, laughing.

"You're not exactly inspiring me with confidence, sir," the Colonel growled.

"These girls aren't disciplined, not in the way you mean it. But they are fighters, through and through, and they'll be the best you got if you let them," Jack insisted.

Sumner struggled to accept that claim for a moment before nodding, coming to some internal decision. "General O'Neill, I can't stop you from sending them with the expedition, neither Sheppard nor the two girls. But if—once we set foot in Atlantis, it's my call. Now I'll give Sheppard a shot, but..." the marine trailed off.

"You're right, Colonel, I can't order you to do something that you feel might endanger your men, but Colonel, consider it a request that you remember them, that you give them some chance to impress you."

"I'll think about it," Colonel Sumner said with a sigh, then he raised a finger, "but if they screw up and get one of my people hurt or injured, I'll have them babysitting the civilians for the duration of the expedition."

Jack nodded. "Fair enough. Thank you, Colonel. Is there anything else?"

Sumner stood from the chair and straightened himself. "No sir, thank you for your time."

Jack smiled. "You're about to travel to another world, to another galaxy, to _Atlantis_. Time is the least I can offer to help. Oh, one more thing."

"Sir?" Sumner asked.

"Something you said, about babysitting the civvies. Both Miss Lehane and Miss Summers are currently living with Winifred Burkle, one of the scientists accompanying the expedition. She has a particular report with Miss Lehane, from what I've heard."

"Well, I suppose lumping those two together with the understanding that Lehane is watching out for Burkle _might_ help cut down on any detractors," Sumner murmured then continued in a louder voice, "like I said, Sheppard is understandable, but my people will question my decision on the girls, quietly of course, but they will."

"They won't for long," Jack promised. "Good talking to you, Colonel."

Jack sighed as the man left, hoping for the millionth time that he wasn't about to get a lot of people hurt. He glanced at the clock on the desk and perked up. Only a couple more hours till his date, the thought of which made him smile and forget some of his troubles for a little while. _Got a date with a hot blonde;_ definitely _not old yet_ , he thought smugly.

* * *

 **December 12th, 2005  
** _(One day before Atlantis dialing attempt)_ **  
**

"So, as her guide you..." Jack indicated for Faith to answer with his hand making an obnoxious ' _well?'_ gesture.

In unison, the members of SG-1, Buffy, and Faith looked out the back window of Jack's living room, where Illyria was visible in the backyard staring at a large pine tree.

"Ugh," Faith replied eloquently.

Buffy elbowed her. Faith punched Buffy's thigh in response. They glared at each other.

"Please," Jack said, "keep your scary, violent foreplay down to a minimum in my presence."

Faith grinned while Buffy blushed.

"Well, Faith?" Sam prompted.

"I don't really know," Faith admitted, "all I know is that Wesley agreed to be her guide in return for her not to kill. Well, kill indiscriminately, I guess."

"Ah," Jack replied, sounding not at all satisfied with the answer.

"Illyria wants a guide to...understand maybe. How humanity arose to its place in this world, or how she can fit in among us, maybe. I don't really know the specifics," Faith added.

"That's rather fascinating," Daniel said, looking almost excited.

"It's fascinating that an agreement had to be made in order to avoid wholesale slaughter?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It is, though," Daniel pressed on. "Can you imagine a System Lord doing as much? A being of such great power willing to make an agreement to curtail their activity in order to learn, to understand an unfamiliar world? It shows a remarkable display of adaptability for a being who was once akin to a god."

Sam grudgingly agreed. "I suppose so, Ba'al or Anubis in a similar situation would be...yeah, I see your point."

"She is a being of great arrogance," Teal'c said, "one whose estimation of herself accompanied by her disregard for others that is not dissimilar to the Goa'uld. Nevertheless, I agree that there is a difference, subtle, but marked."

"Well, I've never met the Gouda—"

"Goa'uld," Faith, Sam, and Daniel automatically corrected.

"—but I've met a lot of bad guys, even a Hell Goddess, heck, even the First Evil," Buffy said, trailing off before speaking in a softer voice, "they were all bad, evil, but Illyria...she's more alien than the aliens."

"That's not a bad way of putting it," Daniel agreed.

Faith shook her head. "Fuck, Angel said that Blue had claimed to have lived in multiple dimensions at the same time. Guess that'd give you a bit of a weird mindset."

"Can we stop talking about uber-smurf, please?" Jack asked. "I'm still annoyed that neither Weir nor Sumner are getting much, or any, preparation for you three hellraisers. I can only say you're 'special' or 'unique' so many times."

Faith winced. "Our 'secret identities'," Faith said, using her fingers to indicate the quotation marks, "aren't likely to last forever. Eventually there will be questions, or gunfire in Illyria's case. Do you really want to try explaining all three of us plus the whole mystical world to Weir or Colonel Sumner? Two days before we leave?"

Jack muttered something foul under his breath.

Teal'c nodded gravely.

Buffy clapped her hands together. "So! Atlantis!"

"Your inner cheerleader is showing, B," Faith observed dryly.

"Buffy Summers is wise, Faith Lehane. You may face danger and great trials, but tomorrow is something to celebrate," Teal'c nodded to Buffy with a solemn look of respect.

"I'm wise?" Buffy blinked.

Faith snorted. "What was the total shoe count that you packed?"

The blonde kicked Faith in the shin.

"You do realize that the two of you are going to be...fascinating to the men on the base, right? And even if you're on another world, you probably don't want to make it so obvious that Sumner _has_ to ask. I don't know his feelings about it, but..." Jack shrugged.

The girls looked at him blankly.

"You know...President Clinton? 1993? 'Don't ask' ringing a bell?"

"Ask what?" Buffy asked, perplexed.

"1993? Dude, I was still in Southie, what are you talking about?" Faith said, just as confused.

"What Jack is trying and failing to say is that it is the United States' military policy to adhere to the 1993 "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" act in relation to gays, lesbians, and bisexuals from serving in the armed forces," Daniel explained. "They don't ask, and as long as you don't tell, then they won't kick you out."

Before the Slayers count interject, Sam added, "as civilians, it wouldn't be worth mentioning, but as civilians _attached_ to a military unit, you could place Sumner in an awkward position if any of his men are prejudiced."

"Huh," Faith said. Then a wicked grin appeared on her face as she gave Buffy a leering look. "So no exhibitionism, pity."

Daniel blushed at Faith's words, but Jack noticed that both Sam and Buffy were equally red in the face. He made a mental note to ask Sam about that later.

Jack's eyes narrowed as he returned to the conversation. "Yes, that's exactly the sort of thing you shouldn't do."

Faith sighed, sounding aggrieved. "Taking all the fun out of things Jack."

"If you keep this up," Buffy said primly, "you'd better hope that the floor is comfortable in Atlantis."

There was a moment of pleasant silence while they enjoyed each other's presence, or in Illyria's case, the tree. Buffy didn't know these people, not well at least, but she and Jack had hit it off well, despite the nose incident. If for some reason Buffy backed out at this point, it was consolation knowing that Buffy would probably be better as a result of her experience here. Hard to argue about it being worthwhile when they were the first Slayers to make it into space. But Faith felt like they were past that point now; Buffy's relatively smooth transition into her new environment had given Faith a little, well, faith.

"I'm gonna miss you guys," Faith said suddenly.

"And we, you," Jack said gently.

"It's been...wicked," Daniel added with a smirk.

"Indeed," from the dark skinned Jaffa.

Sam nodded, "thank you, Faith, for everything."

"Hey, didn't you say Willow brought you presents?" Daniel asked.

"Yep," Buffy said, popping the 'p'.

"Well, we aren't entirely certain how magic will translate through a Stargate, but Willow thinks that because the Stargate functions through wormholes or 'mundane physics' there shouldn't be any issue. To be safe, we weren't given any of the _really_ good stuff," Faith said.

"Willow made several...thingies with our blood that are in Scotland. They _should_ be able to tell the others that we're still alive, which would probably be good," Buffy said.

"That could have been handy in the past," Jack agreed. "Think we could...?"

"Sam has her number," Faith answered. "Got a couple other neat things, but mostly helpful crap as opposed to the Destroyer of All Things Bad Dagger or a stick that shoots napalm."

"Mostly?" Daniel asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I have the kris that Lorne gave me, but I still don't know anything about it except that it's way old," Faith said.

"Plus it looks cool," Buffy interjected.

"Plus it looks really fuckin' cool," Faith agreed with a smile. "We got some other neat things, cure-alls for mundane illnesses or poisons and the two items that are the exception to the mostly."

"And?!" Jack asked insistently.

Buffy reached a hand down and retrieved a hammer from a belt loop that had been obscured by her jacket. She flipped it into the air, making Jack cringe, but caught it. "I got my hammer."

Jack eyed her and the ordinary looking hammer. The blonde was disgustingly smug while Faith just smiled at him. "So...nice hammer?"

"Wanna see it?"

"Um...sure," Daniel said, taking the hammer from Buffy. Or at least, tried to take the hammer. The moment Buffy released the hammer, Daniel toppled from his chair at the sudden weight in his hand.

There was a moment of stunned silence on SG-1's side of Jack's living room.

"Your hammer," Jack observed blandly, "just dented my floor."

Buffy grimaced. "Sorry, forgot about that."

Jack muttered something unpleasant which was rewarded with a backhanded smack to the gut by Sam.

"So, uh," Daniel said breathlessly as he picked himself up, "I'm guessing more than just a hammer?"

"Oh yeah," both girls said simultaneously, all smiles.

Buffy stood up and picked up the hammer from the ground with ease and gave herself some space. " _Verimas_!"

The moment Buffy said the word, the common, unadorned hammer changed into a massive war hammer. It had a wooden handle and was maybe three to four feet in length with an almost absurdly large stone hammer attached to the head.

"Verimas is the Anc—Alteran word for truth, how...?" Daniel asked, trailing off.

"First off DJ, I cannot _believe_ that was your first question. Second, I _was_ paying attention to your lessons," Faith said smugly.

"So what kind of nails require a hammer like _that_?" Jack asked sardonically.

"The kind that resemble Hell Goddesses," Buffy answered flippantly. "This is the hammer that belonged to Olaf the Troll God. Now, it is _my_ Troll hammer. It contains the power of a god inside it," the blonde Slayer added with a satisfied tone.

"It left a dent in my floor," Jack pointed out again.

"Wait, so how were you able to change it? I didn't think magic was one of your talents," Sam asked.

"Willow coded the enchantment to us so that when either Faith or I say the words, the enchantment is triggered," Buffy replied. " _Lacun_!"

The others watched as the Troll hammer was restored to its mundane shape and size and subsequently placed back into Buffy's belt pocket.

"That's gotta be some belt," Jack observed.

"Willow," Buffy answered the unasked question.

"Ah, and how about you?" Jack asked, turning to Faith.

Faith shrugged. "Nothing that wicked. I have the kris to cover...well whatever it will cover, which now that I say it out loud, doesn't sound all the great of a plan."

Buffy grimaced. "Spike's medallion."

Faith wrinkled her nose. "I don't think Lorne's the type to want to see me burn alive, but yeah, not quite as happy now. Anyway, I went to Scotland and all they got me was this lousy thing."

Faith followed Buffy's example and stood to give herself room before she jerked her wrist in an odd motion.

"Whoa."

Jack, Sam, Teal'c, and Daniel watched as a length of metal shot out from under the sleeve of Faith's coat followed by another edged part flipping to extend the metal length even further, leaving Faith with sword that extended a little less than two feet from her hand.

"Indeed."

"Of course," Faith murmured nonchalantly, "it's been spelled by Red, no rust, never loses its edge, plus five dexterity, all the good stuff."

Jack turned to glare at his teammates as Faith's collapsible sword disassembled itself and disappeared under Faith's fleece jacket's cuff. Faith pulled her sleeve up to reveal an interesting getup. It looked delicate, almost like a bare bones vambrace, just a few leather straps and a large rectangular metal piece. "Why don't we have cool stuff like that? Where's our 'Q' to give us collapsible LAWs or inflatable staff weapons?" Jack huffed.

"This was Illyria's idea," Faith said. "Wesley had something like it, apparently worked well for him."

They all looked back outside at the mention of Illyria. Still standing. Still looking at the tree.

"I really hope she doesn't do that in Atlantis," Buffy moaned.

"She won't," Faith said dryly, "she understands that it's weird to us lowly pond scum."

"So...Atlantis," Daniel said.

"Yep, tomorrow," Faith agreed. "Meaning it's about time to hit the hay. Big day and all that." The brunette glanced at Buffy and said, "you should call Dawn."

Buffy winced but nodded. "See you all tomorrow?"

"Sam and Teal'c might be out taking care of Jaffa and Tok'ra stuff, but Daniel and I will be there," Jack said.

"Alrighty then," Faith said, taking Buffy's hand and standing to make their exit.

* * *

"Hello?"

Buffy closed her eyes as she heard the hiccups in Dawn's voice; they always happened when she cried. "Hey Dawnie, it's me."

"Buffy! Hi! Um," Dawn sniffed, "hey."

"So, you know I'm leaving tomorrow and...Dawnie there's so much I want to say and I don't know how. I know we already had our moment at Heathrow, but..."

"You don't have to leave," Dawn said in a small voice.

"I think I do, and it's a decision that I've already made. I just wanted to call you because I want you to know..." Buffy paused to sniff as her own sadness began to weigh on her. "I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you, of how much I love you."

Dawn made unhappy sounds and Buffy knew that Dawn, like herself, was crying.

"Remember when I told you years ago that you needed to be brave? That you needed to be strong? That you needed to live? Do you remember, Dawnie?"

A mumbled, "yes."

"Well, that still applies. Minus the klepto thing, because that was really weird. Be brave, be strong, and do it this time knowing that I am alive, Dawn. So alive. And I'll be brave and strong, just like you, because I'm going to miss you so much. This isn't like last time, Dawn, okay? I'm not jumping through a portal to my death."

Buffy paused. _Shit._

"How is it not like that, Buffy!"

"Okay, so maybe it's a little like that, but at least I'm not jumping from a tower!" Buffy defended herself.

Dawn growled.

"Don't take that tone with me, Dawnie!"

"Or what? You'll fly back to the Milky Way and spank me?" Dawn snarked back.

"I won't need to! Spike will be there, he'll do it for me!" Buffy said triumphantly, then paused again. "Ew."

"Ew," Dawn agreed.

"Doesn't sound all too bad to me, Niblet," an English voice echoed through the receiver.

"Spike!" the two Summers sisters shouted at him.

The vampire chuckled. "Hello luv. I just wanted to say goodbye, goodbye _for now_. Be safe and look after Faith, you know she needs you. Bird always has."

Buffy nodded before realizing Spike couldn't actually see her. "Yeah."

"What is it you said to Niblet? Live? Be strong? We'll do that, and you do that in Atlantis. Whatever nasties there are, make sure you give 'em a good kick in the bollocks for me, yeah?"

"You got it," Buffy smiled. "Spike?"

"Yeah luv?"

"Take care of her. Make her happy. Or I _will_ fly back to the Milky Way and have my new friends beam you into the sun or something."

Spike chuckled. "You know I will, thanks for the vague disclaimer. Here's Dawn."

"Buffy?"

"Dawn, I love you. This is goodbye _for now_. I love you so much," Buffy said, smiling despite the heaviness in her heart.

When she finally hung up, she found herself encircled in Faith's arms.

"Everything good?"

Buffy considered Faith's question, trying to understand what exactly she was feeling. "Not yet," she answered, "but I will be."

"Good."

They were silent for a few minutes, enjoying each other's presence and the knowledge that tomorrow would likely change their lives.

"So...what was that Spike said about spanking?" Faith murmured in Buffy's ear as a hand trailed down the blonde Slayer's back to rest below the small of her back.

"Faith!"

* * *

 **December 13th, 2005  
** _(T-minus three hours...)_

Buffy sidestepped, just barely avoiding the two Airmen carrying a heavy, rattling crate. A woman trailed in their wake, carrying a tablet and a small case of papers and books. There were groups engaged in loud conversations while others argued about things that had too many syllables to be interesting.

"Wow," Faith said, observing the mayhem.

"It's been like this ever since Weir got the green light," Jack said sourly..

"Are Boyd and SG-10 here?" Faith asked, peering around.

"No, unfortunately I had to send them offworld, but they told me to tell you to have fun and not to tweak Sumner's nose too hard or too frequently. Something I'm firmly in agreement of as well," Jack said gravely, but there was a glint in his eye that spoke of mischief.

"So are you all ready? Packed your bags? Ready to go where no Slayer has gone before?" Daniel asked.

"Locked and loaded," Faith said, tapping her wrist.

Buffy took out the hammer and flipped it into the air, smirking at the collective flinch. "Just point me at 'em," she added.

"I need no tools to bathe in the blood of my enemies, no weapons to rip into my foes and force them to watch as I pull their entrails out. I will shatter bone and rend the flesh of those who would dare oppose me," 'Fred' said coldly.

Jack clapped his hands after an awkward silence. "Great, I'll take that as a yes."

"Illyria, you know that a disguise would include not doing...all of that, yes?" Daniel asked worriedly.

"I am enjoying the remaining time I have until I'm to fulfill my agreement and act as the muck do."

"Lovely," Jack said blandly.

Faith winced. "So, now that we're here, as amusing as this or people watching is, I'm kinda bored. Is there anything else we should be doing? Are Sam and Teal'c here?"

Jack shook his head. "No, as I mentioned yesterday it was a possibility that I'd have to send them out, and as things worked out..." Jack shrugged, "but they wish you the best and told me to tell you goodbye. As to the other question, as long as your gear is stowed away, all that you need to do now is see Dr. Beckett for your round of vaccinations."

Faith grimaced and then groaned when she glanced at Illyria. "Jack, her skin, you can't give her—"

"—already handled it," Jack assured her with a placating tone. "Just you two."

Both Slayers grumbled but followed Jack's orders to see the Scottish doctor.

"At least his accent is hot," Buffy muttered and took solace in Faith's agreeable nod.

#

"General O'Neill!"

The Old One watched as the one called 'General Jack O'Neill' moved off to respond to another human's questions. He did not look like a general in her eyes, this O'Neill, neither striking fear into others nor displaying any significant combat skill. And yet the Asgard, who were logical and rational to the point of tedium even in her time, had named him a hero. It seemed absurd, but then so did many things that had been touched by the spread of humanity.

"What do you see when you look at us?" the former Ascended being at her side asked quietly. "I've seen eyes that showed contempt, hatred, and disgust, but I see none of those things in your gaze right now."

Illyria was silent for a moment. "I see reminders of what I lost, of what could have been. I see a contradiction, a weak species on the cusp of becoming something more. Your species, your morals, your beliefs, your laws, all of them built on foundations of contradictions, hypocrisy, and falsehoods. And yet you prepare to reclaim Atlantis even as we speak, to step further into the mantle the Alterans left you."

Illyria felt the eyes of Daniel Jackson upon her, but she maintained her study on the humans scurrying about her like insects.

"You're not entirely what I expected from someone whose last name is 'the Merciless'," Daniel said softly.

The Old One finally gave Daniel her full regard at the comment. "It is not what I expected either."

"Will you watch over them?" the man asked, nodding towards Buffy and Faith, both of whom appeared to be teasing Dr. Beckett ruthlessly.

"They are warriors, Daniel Jackson, they have no need for my protection. But I will fight at their side when I must. I understand that if I am not...discrete problems will likely arise."

Daniel nodded. "They, the leaders of the expedition, believe you'll be an asset for Winifred Burkle's intellect, her knowledge and understanding of physics. I've been told you contain Fred's memories, so that won't be a problem?"

"Now Daniel, surely you don't believe a girl like me could let her friends down, do you?"

#

Daniel flinched inwardly at Fred's sweet Texan accent and watched as the ancient demon strolled towards the two Slayers, evidently finished with their conversation. "And don't call me Shirley," he muttered.

The archaeologist then barked out a laugh as Dr. Rodney McKay intercepted Illyria and began to chatter at her. Daniel wasn't quite tell if McKay was berating her about something or asking her on a date. He chuckled quietly as he left to go find Jack.

* * *

 _(T-minus one hour...)_

"I can't believe they are making us wear this crap," Buffy muttered, picking at the Air Force BDUs that Jack had provided along with the tactical vest. "Camo doesn't go well with my complexion and the uber sweater vest is really pressing down on my chest."

"Don't worry B, you still look good enough to eat," Faith said straight-faced as they passed a group of civilians in one of the many slim corridors of Stargate Command.

Buffy's mouth dropped open. "Faith! That is _not_ discrete!"

Faith smiled at her.

"I hate you," Buffy pouted.

Faith was about to reply when an authoritative male voice called them by their last names. They turned to see the older uniformed man beckoning to them through the mob of people and equipment

"Guessing that's head honcho Sumner who probably hates us?" Buffy asked rhetorically.

"Safe bet."

When they finally managed to reach the man, he led them to a different corridor and eventually ushered them inside a small office before shutting the door.

"Wow, I didn't realize it was so loud out there until now," Buffy said in the sudden silence.

Colonel Sumner grimaced, but was halted from replying because the door opened to reveal a young looking man with short black hair in blue tactical pants, shirt, and vest that mirrored Buffy and Faith's gear.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" the newcomer asked, giving the colonel a salute.

The colonel nodded and waved off the salute. "Major Sheppard, take a seat." When 'Major Sheppard' did as ordered, Sumner spoke again. "Major Sheppard, this is Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane. Ladies, this is Major John Sheppard. Now, you three are all here because you have something in common: I don't want you here. Whether you're here on this expedition or not is Dr. Weir's call, but taking part in field operations in a non-scientific capacity is something that is up to me."

He looked each one of them in the eye before he continued. "You three pose a danger. I don't know you, my people don't know you. I don't know if you'll follow an order even if you disagree with it."

Colonel Sumner had been looking directly at Sheppard at the last sentence but now switched his focus to Faith and Buffy. "I don't know if you can live up to your physical tests or firearms performances and I don't know if any lack of discipline on your parts will get my people killed."

The man sighed and continued with a slightly less harsh tone. "What I do know, Major Sheppard, ladies, is that General O'Neill wants you on Atlantis and in the field. You will have your chance, but your first screw-up that has me writing a death notice to someone's next of kin will leave you grounded permanently, at the very least. Do you understand me?"

Sheppard stiffened. "Yes sir."

Buffy and Faith both nodded.

"Get the rest of your gear and suit up. Sheppard, you're coming in with Security Team Two. Ladies, I haven't assigned either of you to a team yet, nor will I until I get a firsthand look at what you're capable of. You'll be at the head of the rest of expedition group when you're given the green light. We'll be dialing within the hour so hustle up."

The three saluted or nodded and left the room together. Outside, they paused and glanced at each other.

Sheppard scratched the back of his head looking confounded. "I don't know why, but something tells me he doesn't like us."

Faith nodded gravely.

"Well, now that we're without adult supervision..." The Major extended a hand. "John, John Sheppard."

Faith took the hand and gave it a firm shake. "I'm Faith."

"Buffy," the blonde said when it was her turn.

Sheppard winced. "Is it really?"

Buffy glared at him.

"Okay, fair enough," he said with a placating tone.

"Let's go get the fun shit," Faith said to interrupt Buffy's glare of doom.

Sheppard and Buffy followed Faith as the brunette Slayer made a beeline to the Ordinance Office. After fitting in her earpiece and receiving her service weapon, she began cooing and stroking her P90 as if it were a cat. Sheppard winced again. "Probably shouldn't be referring to that as the fun shit around Sumner either," he suggested.

Faith shrugged and waited for the Major and Buffy to get the rest of their gear from the Ordinance Officer and then led the two to the Gate room, where they stood in a milling crowd of marines, security personnel, and scientists.

"Well, hope nobody left their stoves on," Faith quipped, looking jittery.

Neither Buffy nor John looked any better.

"Shouldn't be much longer," Faith said to fill the silence, "there has got to be a big speech coming our way."

John nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I better go find the others on my team. See you in Atlantis," John said with a wave.

Buffy blew out a breath. "I'm wearing a terrible outfit, holding a gun, and getting ready to travel through a portal to Atlantis."

"Yep."

"And last night, along with many nights before, we slept together—"

"We slept? I don't remember that," Faith murmured.

"My life has changed...quite a bit," Buffy said contemplatively, ignoring Faith.

Faith's whimsical manner became more serious. "I know something about life changing decisions, B," the brunette said, "I think you'll come out of this one alright."

"We're all going to be seein' some changes, but I think this is gonna be one mighty fine shindig," Illyria said, coming to stand next to them at the back of the Gate room.

Faith didn't react to Fred's voice, just smiled and nodded in agreement.

#

They stood in silence, watching the frantic last minute preparations, the double and triple checks of people's various pockets, bags, or containers.

Faith heard Weir's voice loudly calling for everyone's attention and watched as the doctor strode to the ramp that led to the Stargate, giving her a vantage point over the others. The brunette leader of the Atlantis expedition stood behind the probe that was poised higher up the ramp. She wore the civilian uniform that had been given to the expedition members. A gray jacket with a patch of the United States flag that had a red swath over the chest accompanied by gray pants. The jacket was partially unzipped, revealing the red shirt underneath.

Like everyone else, she looked excited and nervous, but she spoke clearly and steadily. "We are about to try to make a connection. We have been unable to predict exactly how much power this is gonna take and we may only get the one chance at this. So if we are able to achieve a stable wormhole, we're not going to risk shutting the Gate down. We'll send in the MALP robot probe, check for viability, and go. Everything in one shot.

"Every one of you volunteered for this mission and you represent over a dozen countries. You are the world's best and brightest. And in light of the adventure we are about to embark on, you're also the bravest.

"I hope we all return one day having discovered a whole new realm for humanity to explore, but as all of you know, we may never be able to return home. I'd like to offer you all one last chance to withdraw your participation."

When no one moved to take Weir up on her offer, she continued.

"Begin the dialing sequence."

Buffy nearly jumped when the klaxons began sounding then settled down and watched the Stargate begin its dialing sequence. Faith smiled as the blonde's head was moving in circles as she tried to follow the progress of the ring. When the final chevron was locked, she blinked as the portal manifested. A vortex of spinning...stuff that shot out of the Stargate in their direction before being sucked back into the Gate, which now contained something resembling a puddle of water instead of empty air.

There was a round of applause as the Atlantis address was successfully dialed.

The MALP probe began its trek up the ramp and through the Stargate and they waited to hear whether or not they'd be following it to Atlantis.

When Colonel Sumner, Dr. Weir, and a group of marines began marching up the ramp, Faith tapped Buffy and indicated that they needed to head to the front per Sumner's instructions, while Illyria remained behind with the other scientists.

"Expedition team, move out," General O'Neill's voice called out.

Faith heard Jack's command and stood near the base of the ramp. She watched as Major Sheppard and a dark skinned marine went through the Stargate, the latter with a shouted "woo-hoo."

Faith walked side by side up the ramp and turned to give Jack and Daniel a thumbs up, receiving one in return. She gave a slight nod to Illyria who stood with the rest of the excited scientists. P90 still held at the ready, she took a deep breath, exchanged an excited look with Buffy, and walked the last few steps to the Stargate. When she reached what Sam had called the event horizon, she was surprised at her sudden lack of fear, an utter sense of serenity the likes of which she'd never felt before.

Smiling, Faith stepped forward into the Stargate.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Quick note, when Illyria was talking about traveling through the Stargate and changing her own form, I was referring to her ability to change her form, an ability she possessed before and after her power was sucked away by Wesley (though it was never seen except for changing between Fred and Smurf-Fred). This would also apply to her ability to "change outfits."

Lyonesse is another "lost city" like Atlantis. This one comes from an Arthurian legend and the city was said to have sunk beneath my ways. I thought the shared fate of both Lyonesse and Atlantis was a nice tie-in, plus Lyonesse is yet another little Arthurian tidbit thrown into the mix. (Remember how many of the characters from the tales of King Arthur were actually Ancients? Merlin? Morgan Le Fay? Camelot the _planet?_ )

The Alteran words used by Buffy for the Troll Hammer:  
 _Verimas:_ Truth (I thought of it as: revealing the truth of the item)  
 _Lacun:_ Hidden (I'm pretty sure you can guess why this one was used)

Point of discussion: I'm not 100% sure if this was explained in the story/chapter but I wanted to address the question of why Weir/Sumner weren't told by Jack or the others about the Slayers/Illyria. From a technical standpoint, one could argue that it was a matter of clearance levels, the other main reason is that I really want a big reveal scene for the Slayers and _especially_ Illyria. The first part of this story kind of took that away from Faith in my mind, and the third part provides a really grand stage for that scenario. Whistler's purpose in this part was to provide a foundation for Weir to accept the nature of the others in the third part of the story when all is revealed.

Part III will be coming shortly! There could be a slight delay while I try to get all my facts, timelines, and canon right, but it won't be long. I'm not planning on Buffy/Faith/Illyria to be part of the main team, so it's a bit of a challenge trying to figure out how to work them into the story without them trampling over the Sheppard, Ford, Teyla, McKay team. I loved that team's dynamic so I didn't want to overwrite it. We'll just have to see what I'm able to come up with.


	21. Part III - Legacy of the Ancients

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Thor's Slayers  
** **~ Part** **III ~**

 **###**

 **Chapter One**

 _ **Legacy of the Ancients**_

* * *

 **lateVMlover** : I will endeavor to make sure that the rest of my writing, particularly that which involves Faith and Buffy is a little more tasteful. I am trying my best to portray Faith as she was in the show. Even at the end after her coma and her stint in prison, she was still such a sassy, sensual character and I didn't want to make it seem like she'd done a 180 and become all puritan like in the two years she'd been involved in the SG world. There will still be romance in the story (see warning below), but I'll try to make the innuendos a little less frequent or a little more subtle. One of the reasons I wanted a pairing to begin with, particularly one from the BtVS/AtS fandom, is to help keep that 'verse alive when Faith is in Atlantis. Without any real genuine Evil to fight, and I don't see any of the SG:A foes as truly Evil (with a capital E), and because Illyria isn't someone anyone can really connect with, I wanted that extra reminder of her world; I thought the B/F pairing would serve that purpose well. I don't like OCs and I didn't think any of the other Scoobies would he good companions. Aside from your complaint (and I welcome them, because they **help** me write a better story), I'm glad you've enjoyed my story.  
 **.9** : Just so you know, I measure the quality of my chapters based on the number of smiley faces you give me in your reviews. So keep it up

 **Author's Notes:** Alright folks, I present to you the first chapter of the third part of Thor's Slayers! I've been pretty set on concluding this particular fanfiction at the end of the third part, but given my expansion into the Stargate: Atlantis 'verse, I've been rethinking that decision. Of course, that's dependent on whether or not I have any remaining will to continue writing and if the story is still being received well. I do have five seasons of SG:A I can cover and while I have no intention of rewriting every episode of the show, I do have a _lot_ of material from both fandoms to play with. I'd appreciate your thoughts on the matter as my story develops and things begin to flesh out a little more!

As a side note, I've found that when I'm writing or re-reading my scenes with Spike or Dr. Beckett, I've been instinctively trying to duplicate their accents in my head. It makes a mundane conversation so much more fun!

A few things you can expect: as with any fanfiction, I'm taking liberties with the story and existing canon. Some characters may or live when they otherwise wouldn't, some characters will be more or less important than the previously were. And you can bet your asses that Illyria will be a major character who is both kicking ass and being a pain in the ass.

One more important request: I've discovered a difficulty I hadn't expected in writing this story. This is the longest story I've ever written and I've found myself having to look over published material more and more frequently in order to avoid writing something that contradicts an earlier event or repeats previously known information/conversations. PLEASE let me know if you find any continuity issues or _any_ scene that includes characters being given "new" information that an earlier scene had already relayed; helping me find these kinds of problems could help me a _lot_ in the long run in order to make a higher quality of story.

 **Warning** : there is going to be a _slightly_ raunchy scene in this chapter. It isn't explicit and it's pretty short, but it's very there. I thought about scratching it out several times and I think the only reason I ended up keeping it was because I had just read a fanfic where every single love scene consisted of "he/she took him/her by the hand and led him/her to the bedroom..." and then the chapter ended or there was a scene break. It's not that I wanted to read multiple sex scenes but it was repetitive to the point where the romance did't really feel real. I don't want that. I don't want it to be in your face or make this into a purely romance story, but when the romance does rear its head, I want it to be funny or memorable, not a suggestive sentence that trails off. I'll talk about it more later, too. /rant

Sorry for the long author's notes, enjoy!

* * *

#

 **December 13th, 2005  
** _(Moments after departing Earth via the Stargate)_

"Huh," Faith commented as she stepped out of the Stargate, "bit of a letdown really."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed from her position at her side and wrinkled her nose. "Not nearly as interesting as the transport rings. Sort of expected a weird psychedelic roller coaster of lights and freaky colors, but nope, just in and out. I do like the puddle look though."

"When have you had the chance to use transporter rings?" The question was delivered in the Scottish brogue of one Doctor Carson Beckett. It was asked purely out of curiosity and the man waited eagerly for an answer even as they made way for the mob following them through the Stargate into the Gate room of what was presumably Atlantis.

"Hang around us, Doctor, and we'll take you to all the great places," Faith said, smiling at the man.

"Frankly lass, I think you've already lost that particular contest," the man replied softly.

Faith glanced behind her to see the Scotsman gesturing to their surroundings.

"Faith," Buffy whispered softly, "we're in _Atlantis_."

"Yeah...yeah we are," Faith agreed with a smile, watching as the lights continued to gradually turn on to reveal more and more of their surroundings. "Well, at least there wasn't any alien death squads of evil waiting for us."

A coughing fit erupted nearby and Faith noticed several nearby scientists looking at her with wide eyes. "What? Don't tell me you weren't imagining it!"

They shook their heads slowly in unison.

Buffy bumped her shoulder. "They aren't Slayers or soldiers, they still think the universe is all rainbows and unicorns and crap," the former cheerleader murmured in her ear.

Faith sighed. "I really want to fight something. I haven't had a decent fight in _way_ too long."

"Now that sounds like something that might be fun!" Illyria agreed in her Fred/Texan drawl as she joined them.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

Upon finding places to stand that were out of the way, the three women, or rather the two women and powerful, incomprehensibly ancient demon, watched the procession of soldiers and civilians continue to funnel into the room from the Stargate. The flood of people was accompanied by a multitude of boxes, crates, and trolleys jam-packed with equipment and supplies. Because the Stargate was only capable of staying active for 38 minutes and with the expedition doing their best not to deplete Earth's only ZPM, the incredible amount of people and materials had managed to come through in a remarkably short amount of time. Close to 100 people were members of the expedition, and when they and all of their materials had been accounted for, Doctor Elizabeth Weir radioed Stargate Command and General O'Neill, telling him that he could cut the connection.

Just seconds before the Stargate deactivated, two items were dropped through the Stargate, a long, narrow, wrapped package and a champagne bottle that slowly rolled on the ground towards Weir. Faith watched as Weir picked up the bottle and then move to pick up the box. The head of the Atlantis expedition shook her head in what appeared to be amusement, reading what looked like a small note that had been taped to the box before finally holding the champagne aloft with a smile. As if it were a signal, the host began to move about, assembling equipment, stacking boxes and crates, and generally organizing the mass of materials.

"Lehane, Summers, keep an eye on things in the Gate room, do what you can to help the civilians," Colonel Sumner ordered through their earpieces.

Having hoped for the chance to explore, Buffy returned Faith's sour expression and watched as Illyria joined a small group of scientists studying something that looked excessively complicated upon their invitation.

#

"So...Atlantis."

Faith winced at Buffy's tone. The two Slayers had spent 15 minutes standing around, doing nothing but vainly attempt to stay out of the way of the grouchy science types. "Cheer up, no doubt some crisis will smack us in the face and require us to save the day," Faith said cheerfully, nudging Buffy.

"Summers! Faith! Meet me three levels down from your position, there's something you need to see."

Major Sheppard's voice over the earpiece made them snap their heads toward each other.

Buffy glared at Faith.

"I didn't mean _this_ soon," Faith whined.

Three levels of fancy steps later and they jogged toward the sound of Maj. Sheppard's voice and soon found themselves approaching a large window only a short distance from their current position, where the man stood in the company of Col. Sumner, the prominent Doctor McKay, and Dr. Weir.

"Cool aquarium," Buffy complimented as she approached the small group.

"That's no aquarium...it's an ocean," Faith said gravely with a terrible affected English accent.

Sheppard turned to look at her, disbelief written on his face. "Star Wars, _here? Now?_ "

"We're in Space Atlantis dude," the brunette retorted.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before he conceded the point with a shrug.

The two girls finally reached the window and gazed about in wonder, barely noticing McKay, Weir, and Sumner's departure when McKay mentioned there was something Beckett had to show them.

"Feel free to look, ladies, but Col. Sumner _does_ want you in the Gate room. He's not entirely heartless, though, and figured you were probably bored out of your skulls. But scientists can get irksome quickly and they _could_ use more hands getting everything set up, so head back up there when you've gotten yourself an eyeful," Sheppard informed them before following the others.

Faith bumped into Buffy. "How's Atlantis looking now, B?"

Buffy smiled, looking over the expanse of citycape that lay before them, a cityscape that was drowned in the depths of alien waters. "Definitely of the good."

* * *

"How are you able to carry all that crap without accidentally activating the sword and cutting bits of yourself off?" Buffy asked curiously as she 'strained' to carry a heavy case of materials towards a blossoming command and control center. "I like your bits, I like your bits even more when they're attached to you," she stated emphatically.

"Takes a specific sequence of muscle twitches from two different muscle groups. Hella awkward to do it accidentally," Faith answered, "Illyria actually showed me how from her memories of Wesley _and_ managed to limit herself to calling me an incompetent and clumsy ape only twice in the process." She huffed out a breath as she carried her own load of materials. In all honesty, it was harder for them to pretend the gear was heavy than it was to actually carry it. The burdens of being the Slayer when surrounded by people who didn't know what they were, Faith supposed.

Buffy snorted.

"Will you show me how?" Buffy asked then furrowed her brows. "Muscle groups?"

"Show you later," Faith promised, then paused and winked, "I'm pretty good with human anatomy."

They had gone back for the next load of materials when Faith noticed one of the scientists, Peter something, walk out of the room at a brisk pace with Illyria at his side. The scientist had looked panicked and Faith didn't think it was because of the Old One at his side. Sure enough, just a few minutes later the duo returned with Weir, Sheppard, McKay, Sumner, and Dr. Beckett. After a moment, the group appeared to be in various states of distress; even Illyria was pulling the 'worried look' off pretty well.

"Come on, let's go see what's—" Buffy began to say as she took a step towards the C&C.

"Nuh uh," Faith interrupted, pulling the blonde back by her sleeve. "You aren't queen here and the Humans that Be want us here. If we can't even do that much, we'll be stuck here forever sweeping the floors and shit."

Buffy pouted.

"We'll find out soon enough. Beckett's there, ya know?" Faith grinned.

Buffy couldn't help but smirk in response to Faith's comment. They'd met the Scotsman back at the SGC when they'd received their battery of vaccinations, which is when they'd discovered that between Faith and Buffy, the man became a Scottish rambling wreck within minutes. "He's going to be fun, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Faith agreed, "I definitely see him as part of the Scoobies of Atlantis."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Scoobies of Atlantis?"

Faith gave her an incredulous look. "B, you know it's going to happen eventually. You and me, we're gonna get us a posse."

Buffy wore a small pleased smile at the notion. "Who else?"

Faith shrugged. "Sheppard is pretty cool, but I bet he'll be on Sumner's A-Team, even if Sumner doesn't like him. I'm not even sure Beckett can work in the field, he's pretty important here, what with being the Chief Medical Officer and all. Illyria? That scientist Peter, maybe? I don't know B, but it'll happen."

"Faith, look."

Faith followed the direction of Buffy's finger to see the Stargate beginning to dial out. Together they watched the Stargate activate, the vortex blasting inward as the wormhole was established.

"So that toilet flush thing killed an Old One?" Buffy asked, obviously skeptical.

"Yeah, pretty wicked, huh? That vortex will vaporize or disintegrate just about anything," Faith confirmed. "Illyria said it wasn't a weak Old One, but wasn't one of the uber strong ones either so maybe it didn't have the ability to...reform or whatever?" she theorized. Noticing movement below, she said, "hey, something's going on."

They watched as Col. Sumner led a squad of soldiers, including Sheppard and _Illyria_ to the Stargate. Illyria who, along with the standard Atlantis civilian uniform she'd been wearing, also now wore a basic kevlar vest and a pistol strapped to her thigh.

"Um, Faith?"

Illyria looked back and met Faith's eyes before giving the Slayer a small nod. Then she followed the other men through the Stargate which deactivated shortly after.

"Faith?"

"We have to trust her, B, and if Sumner is panicked then he won't want unknowns like us underfoot."

"So why take Ill—Fred!" Buffy hissed. "And why give her a gun!"

"How the hell should I know? Come on, when it comes to Fred, we _do_ really need to know what's happenin'," Faith said before she paused and raised an eyebrow at Buffy. "You really think Fred packing heat matters one bit?"

Buffy blinked. "It's a gun!" she said weakly, crossing her arms defensively.

Faith shook her head, "Let's find Dr. Weir."

Given that finding Weir meant walking to the other side of the Gate room towards the DHD room, it wasn't really all that dramatic of a journey as it should have been. Their greatest obstacles were the various personnel, conversing groups, and moving equipment that hadn't paused even while Stargate had been in use. However, arriving at the DHD room hadn't made their goal any easier because there were an equally large number of conversations taking place in the control room, making movement difficult. Weir was involved in several of these conversations, talking rapidly and pointing at various diagrams of the city, making getting her attention next to impossible. Faith waited for a couple of minutes until there was a slight lull in the conversation and tapped the doctor on the shoulder.

"Miss Lehane, I'm sorry but this is a bad time, we can talk la—" Weir began.

"I understand Dr. Weir, but I need to know why Fred just walked through the Stargate," Faith said, her voice steel even if her expression betrayed her worry.

"Fred?" Weir asked, confused.

"Winifred Burkle," Buffy explained, but after a second added a hasty, "and why did she get a pistol?"

Understanding shone in Weir's face before something shifted in her eyes. Faith wasn't sure what it was, but something was definitely there, suspicion maybe?

It was McKay who answered the question, shaking his head and waggling a finger. "I really wish Gen. O'Neill had discovered her earlier and allowed us to make use of her, I mean. Sure she's a gifted physicist, especially in light of the fact that she never earned anything more than a bachelor's degree. And she certainly isn't in the same league as Lieutenant Colonel Carter or myself." McKay scoffed then held a finger up. "However, despite the fact that she obviously didn't know _anything_ about Ancient technology when we first spoke on Earth, she's demonstrated a...somewhat impressive ability to intuit a great deal from some of the underlying concepts that Doctor Zelenka and myself, mostly myself, have taught her."

McKay seemed to swell with pride as he continued to explain, "with my—our assistance, I believe that she could become one of our foremost assets on Ancient technology. Dr. Zelenka even said that it's like all we're doing is reminding her of things she already knew. But take that with a grain of salt because Dr. Zelenka is somewhat prone to exaggeration. I also don't think his ability to instruct is anywhere near as effective as mine, especially the way he was going on and on about his racing pigeons. I'd even go so far as to say that if she is to reach her potential, you should definitely allow me to take her—I mean take over her tutelage. In fact, I—"

"Rodney!" Dr. Weir snapped her fingers to get his attention.

McKay's eyes refocused. "Sorry, what? Oh, Miss Burkle was actually able to correct me on several equipment functions when we arrived here, Dr. Weir, though I'm fairly confident that several of those corrections were mere flukes."

"Flukes?" Weir, Faith, and Buffy asked simultaneously.

"Well, whoever has been working with her on the Ancient language must have been doing a stellar job because Fred detected several nuances in the language that escaped the rest of us entirely," McKay said defensively.

"I didn't know anyone was working with her," Weir asked, making it a question when she looked at Faith.

"Doctor Jackson was working with me on learning a little Ancient, Goa'uld, and Norse. I wasn't all that good at it, but Fred took to it right away when she began sitting in after they met." Faith shrugged, feeling a little guilty for the lie. "So you sent her because..."

"Well, she was able to field strip a pistol, which was enough for Sumner to give her that much and Fred said her hunting days with her father in Texas showed her how to shoot so..." McKay shrugged. "They're looking for ZedPMs, or at least a place to stay because the energy provided by our single remaining ZedPM won't last much longer and the shields around this city are dangerously close to collapsing. She and Doctor Grodin are the ones who are primarily responsible for discovering that particular problem; another reason she's going since she'll have a better idea of what we'll need. Even though she's not nearly as qualified as myself or most of the others, she was one of the very few scientists not busy doing other things with _any_ knowledge of Ancient technology that I trusted to work with the jarheads."

"What shield?" the Slayers asked in unison.

"The shield that's keeping all the water out, obviously," McKay said with the sort of tone one might use with particularly slow children.

"And it's collapsing?" Faith said blandly. "Well...that's bad."

Weir looked at her with an annoyed expression. "Yes, Miss Lehane, it is, which is why your friend went with the others. Don't worry, I trust Col. Sumner to watch out for her."

Buffy coughed to cover up a laugh.

"Thanks, Dr. Weir, I apologize for interrupting you, and you're right, I'm sure Fred will be just fine," Faith said as she and Buffy made their retreat.

* * *

Illyria observed the dynamics of the group that was currently drinking tea with the native inhabitants on the planet called 'Athos'.

The natives were even less impressive than the muck on Earth; they had accomplished little in the millennia since the Alterans had departed. They wielded no power, held no significant wealth of knowledge, even compared to the humans on Earth, and seemed to spend far too much time shivering in their hovels in fear of the enemy. In fear of the Wraith.

Yet, despite the lack of any civilization and power, there was a sense of...she wasn't sure what the emotion or feeling was. The shell might have called it something fanciful like 'strength in the face of adversity', but there was a difference between such steadfastness and the natural, frantic desperation to survive that any thinking creature possessed. Illyria had not yet decided which applied to the Athosians.

Of their number, only the one called Teyla provoked any real interest. It was not her status as leader that caught her attention, no, it was that she was able to discern that this particular Athosian wasn't entirely human. It was slight, very slight, but it was there and though it was of interest, it was not worth any more of her consideration at that time.

More interesting were the dynamics within the humans she had traveled with. Since her waking, she had traveled with vampires, with Slayers, but never hidden among human warriors such as these. While applying the term 'warrior' to her companions was quite debatable, it did offer her a new perspective on the muck. Most of her new companions were simple soldiers, warriors that would fight and die at their leader's command. After so much time spent with Angel and his 'team' and the Slayers, she had lamented the possibility of ever finding warriors akin to the days of old. Humans though they might be, they possessed a mindset she could understand and appreciate for all of its simplicity.

The leader of these soldiers, this Col. Sumner, she was still evaluating, mostly because his interactions with Maj. Sheppard revealed unseen facets of the man. At first, Sumner had acted in a manner befitting any leader of warriors. Swift, decisive, and confident in issuing orders to his men, in adapting to a change of circumstances and while he lacked any real power of his own, Sumner's grasp on the power and use of leadership was...adequate.

In a way, it was yet another reminder of her past except that, while her generals and armies commanded power the likes of which the muck could only dream of, they lacked the ability to adapt and make their own decisions in fear of provoking her wrath. It was an interesting contradiction, the human's ability to weaken their own strength of leadership and yet still create a more adaptive fighting force. She hadn't truly understood the concept all those millions of years ago, and applying that ability to the Alterans and to a lesser extent the Asgard helped her understand better why the Old Ones had not simply crushed the mortal creatures that had fought them and eventually entombed them.

Her interest lay also in Sheppard's willingness to disobey, or argue with the colonel, or act without permission as he had when he accepted Teyla's offer of tea that gave her this insight. In the past, she would have flayed the skin off any creature for taking such action without permission, and yet Sumner, who clearly harbored a dislike for Sheppard, had been willing to listen and even follow his subordinate's lead.

It was as fascinating as it was nauseating, to see what had grown on the Earth while her kind slumbered in the Deeper Well. But despite her disdain for the softness and frailty of humanity, she would keep her covenant with the Slayer, watch and learn more about the humans she'd surrounded herself with. She would learn to adapt, as the humans had, and she would learn to be strong once more.

* * *

 **December 14th, 2005  
** _(One day after arriving in Atlantis)_

Faith stretched catlike underneath the sheets of her bed, luxuriating in the knowledge that she'd just woken up in the lost city of Atlantis and that she'd done so with somebody's arms wrapped around her. A very special someone. The bed in her assigned room had more than fulfilled her hopes and dreams by being both very comfortable and of more than sufficient size. They'd made good use of that bed to serve as their congratulatory "not dead yet" celebration for their first night three million light-years from Earth. One of the hands that encircled her rested upon her bare stomach and Faith smiled when she felt the hand pull her closer to the equally naked body pressed behind her. Goosebumps erupted on her skin when she felt Buffy lightly brush her lips on the back of her neck. She still felt a little sore, but it was the kind of sore that really good sex left you; Slayer strength and healing has its benefits even in the bedroom.

"Think the rooms are soundproofed?" Buffy murmured into her ear.

"After last night, you better hope so, B," Faith laughed in reply, turning her head to give Buffy a smug look.

Nails scratched along her rib cage in response as Buffy's hands slowly drifted upwards. "Well, then, I'd say it's your turn to test it out. Did you bring it?"

Faith eyed her. "Bring what?"

Buffy blushed, "you know..." Buffy lowered her voice to a whisper as if people were watching, "the thing you did with Carter?"

Faith grinned, already feeling her body beginning to respond to Buffy's question. "What do you think? Check the bag, B. You planning on topping me?"

Buffy shrugged nonchalantly but her gaze remained molten, "if that means what I think it means, then yes. Either way, it's my turn to make you test the soundproofing."

A few short moments later, Faith found herself on her back in bed, looking up at Buffy who was poised on top of her. Buffy leaned down and kissed down her neck before whispering in her ear, "happy birthday, Faith."

Faith might have replied, but when Buffy began moving, her ability to speak seemed to have abandoned her. She didn't make another attempt to speak for some time after that.

#

Faith walked on slightly unsteady legs with Buffy out of her quarters, trying not to grin stupidly in her postcoital haze. At some point they'd have to tell Weir that they were sleeping together, just for the reason that the space could be used for someone else or in another capacity. Buffy had been assigned her own room but, well...like that was going to happen. But for now, Faith's quarters was their self-proclaimed home away from home.

Buffy had been...surprising with her enthusiasm for her first time with the toy and Faith found herself blessing her own forethought in bringing it along. After the 'happy birthday sex', they had taken a long shower before finally deciding it was time to seek sustenance. Or, as Faith had put it, 'time to feed the other H'. However, their plans immediately hit a roadblock upon leaving the room, a roadblock that was distinctly Doctor Elizabeth Weir and Doctor Peter Grodin shaped.

Dr. Weir and Grodin had been speaking rapidly in hushed tones while Peter was pointing at something displayed on the tablet he was holding. So intent on their conversation, they hadn't noticed when the door to Faith's quarters slid open, resulting in the four people nearly running over one another. The only thing that prevented them from doing just that were the reflexes of both Faith and Buffy that allowed the Slayers to jerk out of their way just in time.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Dr. Weir said, as she and Peter turned from their conversation at their near collision. "Oh, Miss Lehane, Miss Summers! I'm afraid I was slightly preoccupied. Still, I suppose this must be providence because we recently received a message from Lieutenant Ford about their mission's progress. You'll be happy to know that Miss Burkle is just fine."

Dr. Grodin nodded in agreement. "My apologies as well, we'll just be..." The man cut off and looked at the two girls closely, taking in their appearance. "Are you two feeling alright?"

"I'm sorry?" Faith asked, looking at Buffy then back at Dr. Grodin in confusion. "We're just fine, why?"

"Well, you look a little shaky..." Peter trailed off.

"And are those bruises?" Weir asked, focusing on the marks on the girls' skin.

Faith blinked and looked at Buffy and then herself. Buffy's cheeks turned pink and Faith had to cough to cover her own embarrassment. "I think we're just fine, Dr. Grodin," she croaked in the aftermath of her coughing fit.

#

Taking in the girls' behavior, Weir remembered their first meeting, Dr. Burkle's question, and the two girls' late arrival and flushed appearances. _Ah hah!_ Weir thought in bemusement, her earlier suspicions about the nature of the girls' relationship now amply confirmed.

"If you two are getting sick, you need to see Dr. Beckett now. Any foreign bacteria that are in this city could be lethal and contagious, so you need see him immediately to determine if you're sick and whether or not it's something native," Peter ordered.

"We're not sick," Buffy said firmly.

Weir considered intervening but in all honesty, this was the most entertainment she'd had since arriving in Atlantis. Had the girls been genuinely upset or angry, she would have intervened, however they both seemed torn between amusement and embarrassment. So, in a move totally out of character, she decided to simply step back and watch the fireworks.

"Bruising, coughing, weak muscles, and flushing," Peter declared, naming their symptoms as he counted them off with his fingers to emphasize his point, "I'll take you there, now."

Faith coughed again and had to look down to conceal the slight smile that she'd gained.

"Well? Come on, let's go," Peter said, gesturing with his arm to follow him.

"Dr. Weir, Dr. Grodin," Faith said firmly, catching their attention. "We are not _ill_ , we've simply been celebrating my birthday."

Weir hid a smile behind a hand when Buffy stepped on Faith's foot. Hard.

Peter still looked confused and at Faith's reply, blurted out, "then how'd you wind up with bruising like that?"

Even though Weir knew the answer to that question now, she was pretty sure that wasn't a question either girl wanted to answer. She was about to suggest that she and Peter leave them be when Weir discovered she'd underestimated the girls' temerity. Faith smiled at Peter and cheerfully answered the doctor's question.

"Really, _really_ good sex."

Weir felt like face-palming, or smacking Faith, or possibly walking away and wishing that this conversation had never happened.

Peter appeared to have stopped functioning, his mouth slightly ajar while his eyes flicked from one girl to the other in rapid succession. "So...you're not sick?" he asked stupidly, almost hopefully.

"Nope," the girls answered in unison.

"Good...good," he said faintly. "That's good." Without another word, he turned on his heel and began walking away at a brisk pace. It wasn't _quite_ running away, but it came close.

Weir turned to eye the retreating man before she sighed, closed her eyes, and counted to ten. "I wouldn't ask this if we were on Earth, but given how few of us are here and how relationship problems can cause friction among a larger population... I feel the need to ask if you two are involved in a relationship, not just a..."

"Wham, bam, thank you ma'am?" Faith supplied helpfully.

Weir felt her face heat at the turn of phrase. "Yes," she said, not allowing herself to look away from the younger brunette's challenging look, "that."

The "yes" was said in unison.

"One that you'd describe as serious?" Weir asked

Both girls nodded.

Weir paused, processing the implications and trying to figure out how to ask certain questions without being...indelicate.

"Um, I don't need my room," Buffy offered, seeing the older woman's expression.

Weir nodded gratefully, "thank you for letting me know, I know that it can be an awkward subject but we have a very limited amount of space that we can secure, so every room counts."

"Dr. Weir, we were told Colonel Sumner might not be cool with us, because...you know. Do you think you could keep this private?" Faith asked hesitantly.

"Who told you that?" Weir asked with a raised eyebrow.

"General O'Neill," Faith answered.

Weir considered the statement before eventually shrugging. "Sumner seems to be a pretty by the books kind of man," Weir conceded, "but I don't get the sense that it would be an issue unless you _make_ it an issue. I won't approach him about this, but I won't lie if he asks either. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find Peter and hope you didn't break him."

The leader of the Atlantis expedition turned to walk away before she paused, and looked back at the two Slayers. "The shield around the city is collapsing even more quickly than we'd estimated. It won't last much longer so might need to prepare for the possibility of an evacuation."

"Fuck," Faith cursed.

Weir winced but nodded her agreement at the sentiment.

"What can we do to help?" Buffy asked.

Seeing only their desire to help, Weir smiled at them with a measure of genuine warmth. "If Sumner left no further instructions for you, report to the C&C in the Gate room. Sergeant...Stackhouse, I believe, should be there; he'll direct you to wherever you're needed."

"Will do, thanks Dr. Weir," Faith said.

"And next time ladies, please be a little more discrete about your activities, or wear a high collared shirt."

"Will do," Faith promised.

#

"Liar," Buffy whispered in her ear as the doctor walked off.

Faith gave her a smirk. "Well B, now that _that's_ over with, let's go see Sgt. Stackhouse."

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

Illyria observed the ships swooping through the night sky, occasionally angling downwards to strafe the ground. The small ships were using some form of an energy based weapon to attack in a seemingly random pattern. Structures were damaged or destroyed, but few if any humans had actually been killed directly by the bolts of energy that rained down from the sky. The tactic seemed geared more to inspire panic than to cause genuine damage and when the ships began beaming the fleeing humans into their ships, her belief was confirmed.

Based on Teyla's description, these would likely be the Wraith, given their intent to terrorize and capture as opposite to conquer or destroy. _Curious_ , she mused. She'd never encountered the Wraith in the past and she was curious about the species that had driven the Alterans back to Earth, back to the Old Ones and their destructive war.

"Don't worry Miss Burkle, stay close to the ground and stick with us, we'll keep you safe!" Col. Sumner shouted to her as an explosion lit up the night sky just a short distance behind them.

Illyria made the appropriate face indicating fear and continued to observe. The Athosians did nothing to defend themselves and though they had little ability to do so, they didn't appear to even have any system to at least protect their own. Another indication they were inferior to the muck on Earth. _Disappointing_.

The humans she'd accompanied were able to hold onto their discipline, but upon entering the thick forests they quickly became more erratic, more fearful. Illyria cocked her head, trying to determine what the humans were reacting to with such fear, when Teyla came upon them, and told them of the Wrath's telepathic powers. She understood the significance of such an advantage in various circumstances; her guide would need to be warned about their ability to project and possible read thoughts. She did not know if the Slayers would possess any natural resistance, but forewarned is forearmed, as one of the less imbecilic human sayings went.

Their small party moved on, more clinically and professionally now that they knew not to shoot or bleat in fear at the shadows. The forest that surrounded them was filled with gunfire and screams. She could see the fires of destruction all around her as humans ran in fright at the monsters that hunted them. All things considered, it almost felt like home.

Another explosion nearby had everyone ducking down and Illyria heard Sumner shout some unintelligible words. There was a plume of heat and noise as the man called "Bates" used some projectile launcher that rested on his shoulder to successfully bring down one of the three small ships. It was patently absurd that a simple explosive projectile fired by a flimsy metal tube using the primitive process of combustion was capable of destroying an advanced airborne vehicle that possessed firepower far beyond the humans' own capabilities. Illyria supposed that said a great deal about the potential of humans, or more likely that she had simply expected far too much from the Wraith.

Sergeant Bates turned towards her and shouted, "go find Maj. Sheppard, he'll get you back to Atlantis!"

Illyria nodded and began moving in the direction he'd indicated, but paused as she noticed the Wraith ship speeding towards Col. Sumner and Bates at the low altitude they used to collect their prey. She had only a split second to decide, to choose how she wanted to proceed. She wanted to meet these Wraith, to see these creatures that would drive the Alterans from this galaxy, the creatures that had captured some of her humans.

Her eyes narrowed. _My humans_. It did not feel like a statement built out of some form of useless sentimentality. No, this was more primal, more natural to her, the feeling she might have had when a rival stepped foot onto her territory and dared challenge her rule. If the muck she had accompanied through the Astria Porta were to be killed, it would be by her hand and no other's. No, that wasn't quite it either, but close. The beam was nearing her, but her current position would leave her just outside of its range.

Would her guide believe her next action to be a breach of trust? The willingness to possibly expose herself for what she was? Perhaps, but if she'd learned anything about humans, it was that they were willing to risk much for the sake of another. Now that several members of the expedition had been or were about to be captured by these Wraith, the humans would make the predictable effort to risk even more of their kind just to save those few that had been taken.

For some reason, she saw Wesley's face, lying on the ground as his blood stained the floor, asking her to lie to him. She didn't know why the memory was suddenly vivid in her mind but it felt...significant.

Illyria stepped into the beam. _Yes,_ she thought, _I would like to meet these Wraith._

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Regarding the opening scene: the concept of traveling by Stargate (read wormhole) is just that, a concept, theory. However, if one were to do so, you would _not_ be going in a loop de loop with pretty blue colors. This is partly due to the fact that you would see _nothing_ because your entire body was just dematerialized, making the use of eyes...difficult. So it really would be walking in and walking out with a very short time lag. The listed travel time from Earth to Atlantis as 20 seconds via Stargate.

So about that rocket launcher Bates used to bring down the Wraith Dart: I watched the scene in the episode several times over and I'm pretty sure that wasn't an anti-air shoulder-mounted missile, it was just an RPG (as in rocket propelled grenade, not the iconic Russian RPG), and more specifically, I think it was an M72 LAW. That means Bates was able to shoot down a Wraith Dart flying _very_ fast with an unguided rocket. Holy shit, Bates is either much more of a badass than I thought, or there was some very shift story telling. *shrug*

So...the Fuffy scene. I'm still trying to avoid the M rating and I'm _pretty_ sure I was successful for this chapter. For the mom rule, this pretty much stretches it or breaks it, haven't quite decided, but this will be as explicit as it gets.


	22. Have Stakes Will Travel

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Two**

 _ **Have Stakes Will Travel**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Alright folks, this is the last chapter until after Christmas. Hope you enjoy and have a happy festivus!

* * *

#

Faith and Buffy stumbled into the railing when the building, or was it city?, shook beneath their feet. It ended quickly but they shared an "oh shit" look that was being mirrored by Doctor McKay and Doctor Weir 30 feet away in the C&C.

"I think that nice shield of ours is about to be not so shieldy," Buffy muttered. "I do _not_ want to drown, Faith. Been there, done that. Can't somebody flip a switch somewhere and boost the power by 100% or whatever?"

Faith snickered and opened her mouth to reply but paused when the Stargate began dialing in. "Yo B, Gate's activating, game face."

The soldiers stationed in the Gate room took up defensive positions with a diverse mix of firearms held ready, using whatever was available for cover. On the upper level of the Gate room, across from the DHD room, Buffy and Faith crouched and held their P90s between the railing. They each checked their safeties and held their PDWs to eye level, aimed at the Stargate that had been sealed off by the energy shield that acted as Atlantis's version of the SGC's iris.

"I feel like one of the archers on the wall at Helm's Deep," Buffy blurted, eyes still fixed on the Stargate, her P90 steady and posture relaxed.

Faith turned incredulous eyes to her lover. "Who made you watch Lord of the Rings, Dawn or Xander?"

Buffy went very still and very quiet all of a sudden. _Too_ quiet.

Faith narrowed her eyes. "Andrew?"

Buffy looked down in shame. "It was at one of our meetings in Scotland. He was watching it and there was all this fighting and Andrew wouldn't stop talking about Orlando Bloom and he is _so_ pretty," she said defensively.

Faith shook her head in disappointment. "How did that geek not know he was gay for so many years?" she wondered aloud.

Buffy didn't answer because at that moment the city began shaking again, even more violently this time and .was still shaking when the shield that sealed the gate deactivated. Moments later and Major Sheppard, the other soldiers, and a whole lot of people she'd never seen before stepped through. They were human, or at least human looking, which was good. That they were there at all however, when the city looked like it was about to collapse, was _not_ good. What was even more not good was the fact that there were several people missing from the party that had departed Atlantis. Colonel Sumner, at least one or two other soldiers, and of course, Illyria.

"Fuck," Faith cursed and then steadied herself as the shaking settled

"We need to know what happened, Faith, we need to find Illy—Fred," Buffy stated as she stalked towards Dr. Weir and Maj. Sheppard.

"No arguments here," Faith agreed but stumbled into Buffy when the city shook even more violently. This time it was powerful enough to send them both to the tumbling to the ground. This time the shaking wasn't over quickly, instead it grew in intensity, causing people and supplies to tumble to the ground. The newcomers, who had looked so relieved upon their entry, were now calling out in panic and fear. Faith frowned at the shaking, before gradually realizing she was able to feel a subtle smooth movement of the floor beneath her feet. She glanced at Buffy whose own brow was furrowed, no doubt feeling the same thing.

Glancing across the room, Faith realized that Dr. Weir must have noticed something too because both the doctor, Peter, and McKay all began moving quickly around the various control panels, less panicked and more excited than before. As seconds passed in what felt like hours, the shaking began to gradually lessen and eventually ceased altogether. Almost immediately upon the city's newfound stability, the lights which had been dimmed to conserve power began to turn back on, fully illuminating the Gate room.

Seeing other expedition members looking out of nearby windows now letting in the light of the sun, Faith walked with Buffy at her side to do likewise. Given that the nearest windows were directly opposite the Stargate on the upper level not 20 feet from them, the two Slayers were some of the first individuals to truly see what had happened. There, she and Buffy looked over the cityscape, the cityscape no longer buried beneath the waves, the cityscape that now gleamed in the sunlight.

"Oh my god," Buffy whispered.

Faith couldn't agree more. Earlier they had been able to see Atlantis underneath the water, but now, without any obstruction or distortion, it was... "Beautiful," Faith murmured. The cities of Earth bore little resemblance to Atlantis beyond the height and number of towers and skyscrapers erected in the major cities. But Atlantis...

It was built like a snowflake, a single large center island with a mostly symmetrical array of extended pads. She'd known this ahead of time just from the displays around the city, but to see it in front of her like this was breathtaking. The central area, where they and the Stargate stood, was the largest area by far, full of gleaming metal towers and spires that were all graceful curves and angles. The extended pads, though smaller and not quite so grandiose, also held their fair share of impressive looking structures.

When fully revealed, the city was massive, sleek, and in Faith's eyes, perfect. While it didn't sprawl outwards like Earth cities did, the Alterans appeared to have been well adept at the growing vertically bit. Even more appealing was the absence of the overwhelming usage of ugly concrete that was typial of Earth's urban jungles. Faith tried to imagine the sheer scale of the technology and knowledge needed to construct such a city, a city that could _fly_ , and couldn't even being to grasp it. It certainly put her collapsible sword in perspective, that was for sure.

Faith felt Buffy nudge her and turned to follow her gaze. Outside, Sheppard and Weir appeared to be arguing about something. Either the strangers or the missing people, Faith was willing to bet.

"We'll talk to her when they're done," Faith said. Buffy nodded in agreement and they both turned back around to gaze at the newly revealed expanse of their new home.

* * *

Illyria watched as Teyla awoke from her induced sleep, assisted by the men known as Toran and Halling. Col. Sumner and the three soldiers that had been taken with him were already standing, discussing their options, looking ready for a fight or to make their escape.

She had feigned sleep while the others had been rendered unconscious and was forced to wait until they arrived at their eventual destination. She'd used this time to study what little she could of the ship that had captured them and tried to determine the method used to stun her companions; a gas of some sort she'd surmised. Upon their arrival at their new environs, she had been disappointed when no Wraith came except for those who had removed their weapons. Their unmarked armor, masked faces, the matching, heavy tread of their march, and practiced movements in dealing with the captured humans made Illyria judge them to be near the bottom of their warrior caste.

Hopefully now that all the muck had awakened, a Wraith of more significance would come to them. She had been tempted to break the device meant to cage them, but such action would have been precipitous without any additional information she could use to plan. As it turned out, it wasn't long until her wish was granted as a trio of pale bipedal beings marched toward them through the hallway that seemed excessively misty.

The being at the forefront, clearly their leader, looked much like the muck did, to her disappointment. In shape and size they were nearly identical, the leader being fairly slim and tall by human standards. A slightly different coloring, a few different physical characteristics, but human-like nonetheless. How had it come to be that this form had become dominant over not just Earth, but two separate galaxies? She almost wished her brethren would waken just to correct such a flagrant offense.

The two behind him were quite different and had been the ones she'd been able to observe unobtrusively earlier. All three shared the same white hair, but the two guards had extremely muscular, bulky builds. Able to observe them more openly now, she realized the masks that covered their faces appeared to be a bone growth or device that should have obscured their vision entirely. Without removing the masks, she had no way to be sure but the two soldiers were practically identical. Illyria felt sure that her earlier estimation of their importance had been correct; they were soldiers and guards, nothing of consequence.

Col. Sumner immediately approached them, stating his name and position, indicating that he was the leader of all those who had been caged. She realized that by doing so, he sought to protect not only those he commanded but the Athosians as well, a people to whom he owed no loyalty. She had learned time and time again that humans were sentimental to the point of stupidity; she shouldn't have been surprised when their warriors would behave similarly.

The Wrath responded to Sumner's babble by backhanding him, sending him crashing into the wall perhaps ten feet away where he then struggled to get back to his feet. For the minimal amount of effort the Wraith had appeared to expend in striking the colonel, Illyria estimated the Wraith as strong as a vampire or a minor demon, perhaps stronger. The Slayers might struggle perhaps, but Illyria had little doubt that they would be able to overcome such a being in a contest of strength alone. She considered that perhaps learning such information was worth the potential risk in being forced to reveal herself, especially if it meant that her guide would be able to survive when she might otherwise not have.

Illyria remained silent, watching the Wraith through narrowed eyes as it studied the humans. She debated whether or not she should insist on accompanying the creature, but unless one of the expedition members was taken, decided it would be prudent to determine the fate of the one it did take instead. He eventually selected the one called Toran, dragging him away as he began to cry out in panic and fear. If there had been a human she would have encouraged the Wraith to take, it would have been that one.

She noticed one of the soldiers glancing at her and realized she'd been too watchful, too motionless, and too quiet. "Colonel, you don't think the others will abandon us, do you?" she asked with the shell's voice.

The older man, still rubbing his shoulder from his impact with the wall, gave her a strained smile. "Miss Burkle, I can't imagine that they will. We just have to wait and they'll come for us."

Illyria gave the man a grateful smile and turned back to watch the door and the corridor beyond. She hadn't missed the look exchanged between Sumner and the others. Good, if they thought her one of the sheep, it shouldn't be too hard to have a conversation with the wolves. She wondered if the Slayers would come on time, or whether they'd let her enjoy the bloodshed all on her own.

Illyria smiled slightly and waited, prepared for either eventuality.

* * *

"Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth turned to see Miss Summers and Miss Lehane, fully geared and looking anxious.

"Ladies, it looks like...Fred was one of those captured by the Wraith on Athos, that's the name of the planet the team was sent to. I'm sorry, but Maj. Sheppard is currently assembling a team to rescue them."

"Oh, okay," Faith said, and paused before asking, "so can we go?"

Weir opened her mouth to say no, but paused. They didn't look afraid, or even all that worried. In fact if she had to name the emotion on their faces, she'd say they were excited, especially Faith. The advice she'd received to allow them to take care of _her_ rang in her mind and she inwardly sighed in resignation.

"I have no objection, but you'll have to take it up with Maj. Sheppard in the hanger. But even if he says no, you can be sure that if it's possible, they'll get your friend back."

"Great, I'm sure she'll be fine, we'll go find John now," Faith said and both girls quickly left her in the C&C to find Maj. Sheppard.

"Huh," Rodney remarked at their abruptness, but quickly went back to his work on...some extremely complicated city function that Weir really didn't understand. There was so much for her to get caught up on and now that some of her people had been kidnapped, everything had been put on hold. Despite her argument with Sheppard about the pros and cons of mounting a rescue mission, she couldn't help but be relieved that he was taking responsibility for it; she just had to hope the man could really pull it off.

Weir remembered what Whistler had said about Miss Burkle being captured and his amusement at the possibility. Given Faith and Buffy's minimal display of concern for the safety of their friend, she was willing to wager that it probably stemmed from whatever knowledge was being withheld from her. She had to suppress an inward growl; she was unwilling to stay in the dark forever and promised herself that she'd ask Faith and Buffy some very direct questions in the near future. A conversation that would hopefully be less uncomfortable than the one they'd had this morning regarding the girls' 'bruises'.

* * *

Faith and Buffy ran in the direction of the hanger, having finally figured out the layout of the city well enough to navigate it accurately. Given the way Weir had phrased it, Faith figured that the assembling team would be less assembl _ing_ and more assembl _ed,_ and she had no doubt that they wouldn't waste any time before heading out.

When they ran into the hanger, they saw maybe half a dozen men, all of whom were _very_ well armed, boarding one of the Gateships.

"Maj. Sheppard!" Faith yelled. "Sheppard!"

A moment later and the major came out of the ship, looking confused but not unhappy to see them. "Faith, Buffy, what do you need? I'm getting ready to leave Atlantis to go pick up our people from the coordinates McKay came up with."

"We know, we know," Faith said, "we want to go with."

Sheppard drew back in surprise. "Huh?"

"We. Want. To. Go. With. You," Buffy said, with a heavy emphasis placed on each word.

Sheppard scratched the side of his head. "Look, I've heard you're both good shots, but we're about to head into what's likely to be enemy territory full of unfamiliar hostiles. I understand you guys want to help, but this isn't—" he stopped abruptly when Faith stepped into his personal space.

"Sheppard, both B and I, we know how to fight, ya dig? We know how to fight real well, fight dirty, brawl or even duel, get us there Sheppard, and we'll make your job a little easier," Faith promised, looking the man in the eye.

"Also, if you don't, we'll hurt you," Buffy promised, glaring at Sheppard.

"Wow," Sheppard said, rocking back on his heels at the threat.

Faith winced, "wasn't quite willing to go that far that fast, B."

"We're wasting time, we have our people to go rescue," Buffy maintained firmly.

Sheppard looked between them for a moment before he growled out, "get in with the others, and don't make me regret this."

They followed the man into the Gateship where they an encountered a squad of surprised looking men.

"Hello, my name's Faith Lehane and beside me is our very own lovely Buffy Summers. We'll be your teammates for the mission so please check your safeties and make yourself comfortable for the very first flight of Atlantis Airlines," Faith announced in an officious voice as they sat down.

"I like this airline," Sergeant Stackhouse said, smiling at her.

A chorus of agreements echoed his statement.

Buffy shot a raised eyebrow at Faith who just shrugged. "They're men, B. Attractive women with guns and who know how to use them? Please, like they'd hesitate to give us a seat."

"Hear, hear," muttered a nearby soldier, in the process of putting a grenade in one of his vest pockets.

A young dark-skinned man entered the Gateship, closing the door behind him. "Alright boys..." he trailed off at the audible sigh from the Slayers and then shrugged, "and girls, get ready to go."

He then entered the cockpit which was subsequently sealed off by a wall.

"Fuckin' a, let's do this," one of the other soldiers barked out.

Faith and Buffy looked at each other and grinned.

* * *

Illyria straightened as the footsteps of the Wraith drew near once again. The insipid Toran was not with them, good.

And once again, despite the result of his last attempt to protect the others, Col. Sumner stalked forward to meet the trio of Wraith. The unmasked Wraith stared at the man with narrowed eyes, judging him by some unknown criteria. Illyria saw in the creature's eyes that it had made the decision to take Sumner and made a snap decision.

Illyria strode forward and grabbed Sumner's shoulder in a light but firm grasp. "It's okay Colonel, it's me they want, you don't have to protect me any longer. You just make sure everyone else is safe, okay?"

When the human began to question her sanity, she applied a little more pressure and began to slowly draw him backwards until he was behind her, her eyes never leaving the Wraith's. "I'm the leader you want, he just wanted to protect me, I'm sure you understand."

The Wraith looked at her and then cocked his head. She let a small smile play upon her lips.

"Miss Burkle, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Sumner hissed.

"You need to keep the people safe, you hear Colonel? You're needed here so much more than I; I'm just a physicist and we already got plenty of those but we only have one Colonel Sumner." Illyria murmured quietly, careful to apply the slightest tremor to her soft tone, even as her face remained bland for the Wraith.

Finally the Wraith growled and jerked his head, indicating for her to follow. Satisfied, she did so, but not before glancing back at the colonel whose worry was written clearly upon his face.

 _Humans. So emotional._

Illyria stepped forward and followed the Wraith while being trailed by the two masked soldiers, both holding weapons that had an unusually long blade on the rear. She began humming a tune the shell had always enjoyed once they were out of the humans' hearing range.

* * *

Faith looked up as the wall separating the cockpit slid back and a dark-skinned man, who she now knew to be Lieutenant Ford, came through with a quiet, "lock and load."

With that, the rear hatch of the newly rechristened Puddle Jumper slip open, and Faith and Buffy trailed the last of the men off the ship and followed their example in taking defense positions with their P90s at the ready.

"Alright teams of two, learn what you can, lay down the defenses as you see fit, I want to be able light this place up if we have to. Two clicks you're clear to talk. Do not engage the enemy," Maj. Sheppard ordered as he walked towards the Wraith ship.

"You're with me," he said to Lt. Ford.

Buffy and Faith exchanged glances and quickly caught up to him.

"Our team of two is coming with your team," Buffy said cheerfully. When Sheppard opened his mouth to object, and Buffy spoke with narrowed eyes, "Us. Give. Pain. You."

Ford's eyes widened while Sheppard just rolled his eyes. "If you get us killed, I will come back and haunt you both, now let's move."

The four began the short trek towards the massive grounded ship, moving at a quick pace. Time was a critical element in any kind of hostage or prisoner extraction so neither of the soldiers spared a glance behind them, trusting the two girls to watch their backs. If they had looked, they would have seen the Slayers' movements becoming more graceful, more predatory, as they closed in on their objective.

#

Illyria was led into a room that was occupied by a large primitive wooden table that was laden with drink and various food dishes. Two chairs were present, one at each head of the table. The chair closest to her was occupied by a body, a human that had been deceased for many years. Yet upon a closer examination of the withered corpse, she recognized the clothing as that which had been worn by Toran. _Interesting_.

The unmasked Wraith had departed, allowing the two Wraith soldiers to take positions perpendicular to the two chairs within the chamber, where they took no further action. With nothing else to do, she tilted the chair to the side to deposit the corpse onto the fog covered ground. She then righted it, sat down, and waited.

After a minute or two, a Wraith dropped into the room from above, a movement clearly meant to induce fear in one of the muck. Illyria merely smiled. It was the first female Wraith she'd seen and was somehow even less appealing to the eye than female humans. She had scarlet hair, pale like the skin of maggots, and accompanied by a flimsy dress that was an unblemished white that seemed positively garish in contrast to their surroundings.

"You must feel hunger by now," the Wraith crooned, her smile revealing a mouth full of sharp, jagged teeth.

Illyria cocked her head at the question. "Not in a very long time," she answered truthfully.

#

Faith and Buffy followed Ford and Sheppard through the ship, having had the good fortune of not encountering any Wraith or of being detected. Of course, it was only seconds later that they were all forced to duck against a wall as the heavy tread of footsteps became audible. They didn't see much, just a glimpse of a large pale form, but Faith and Buffy both felt that instinctive knowledge that what they saw was something _other_.

Ahead of them, Ford and Sheppard were testing out the life signs detector, the latter having picked it up from the Puddle Jumper. Faith had a moment of worry about whether Illyria would even show up on the scanner but resolved that, one way or another, she'd just have to trust they'd be able to find one another when the noise inevitably started. As they explored the ship, using the life signs detector as a guide, they managed to locate a room sealed off by thin metallic bars in a pattern reminiscent of a spiderweb. Inside were a group of Athosians and the missing Atlantis personnel. All but one of those personnel.

Faith rolled her eyes. _Of course, it'd be her._

"Where's Miss Burkle?" Sheppard asked, also noticing the absent member.

"She was taken by the Wraith," Sergeant Bates replied.

"We don't know where," a woman said, her voice steady and strong.

Sumner had a dour expression. "Miss Burkle decided to play hero and pretended to be the leader to save me. Damn fool of a girl."

Sheppard and Ford seemed to agree with the thought, but Buffy and Faith shared a quick smirk. _Yeah, there would be some noise soon,_ Faith thought, almost eager to get it over with. Yeah, it'd been way too long since her last decent brawl if she was looking forward to fighting hostile aliens onboard a spaceship. On second thought, that idea seemed appealing no matter how long it'd been.

Sheppard decided to go after Illyria, while Ford was to stay and get the others out with the blocks of C-4 they'd brought.

"I'll get Blue," she whispered to Buffy, "I'm her guide and shit, you help Ford."

Buffy opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. "Go, and stay safe."

Faith looked around and gestured to their surroundings before smiling sardonically. "Couldn't be safer."

With a nod promising to do her best to be safe anyways, Faith followed Sheppard, quiet and P90 at the ready.

#

"What do you call yourself?" the Wraith asked, still smiling.

"I am Illyria. And yourself?"

"I am the Keeper of this Hive," the pale creature purred as she began to circle around her, voice and movements appearing almost lackadaisical. "So little fear, is it valor or ignorance?"

The question seemed rhetorical, but it was one Illyria nevertheless decided to answer. "I have no need to fear that which is beneath me."

The scarlet-haired creature snarled at her but otherwise ignored her comment and continued her meaningless prattle. "You must eat, yet you resist your hunger, why?"

Illyria ignored her and asked, "why did you capture my companions?"

"You trespassed upon our feeding ground."

"Feeding ground?" Illyria asked, curious.

"All living things must eat, in this I am sure we are similar. You feel hunger even now, I can sense it. Yet, you resist, why?" The Wraith continued to slowly circle the table as she spoke, the sort of movement predators made to draw the fear out of their prey.

Like so much else about the Wraith, it wasn't anything new or impressive. How was it possible that the Alterans were brought to their ruin by such creatures? Illyria tilted her head slightly at the Wraith's question. "It is a different hunger you feel, and I resist because I intend to learn more about you."

The Wraith narrowed her eyes before she sighed in disappointment. "Hunger is distasteful."

Illyria nodded in agreement before gesturing towards the corpse on the floor beside her. "It would appear he ingested something foul to satisfy his hunger."

"There we are quite dissimilar, Illyria, we don't require our food to be in the same state as yours." The Wraith bent low to stroke the face of the desiccated corpse Illyria had deposited onto the floor to make her meaning clear.

"You feed upon life, then?" Illyria asked.

The Wraith smiled widely, sharp teeth evident, and nodded.

"Two of my companions will be pleased to know and understand this," Illyria stated matter-of-factly.

The Wraith's eyes narrowed again. "What is the name of your world?"

"Earth," Illyria answered agreeably.

"I have not heard of this _Earth_ , it is not among our stars?"

"No."

"Tell me of Earth, how many more are there of your kind?"

"There are billions of humans, they breed like insects," Illyria said with the disgusted tone she often reserved for the muck. Illyria could feel the atmosphere of the room changing and slowly stood to look the Wraith in the eye from a short distance away.

"Our feeding ground has not been so rich in almost 100,000 years!" the Wraith practically moaned, managing to completely ignore Illyria's implied statement that she didn't identify as human.

Illyria's lip curled at the wanton display of the leech. Newly fledged vampires would often behave this way, possessed by that singular focus to satisfy their new and incessant hunger for blood. That she was comparing these Wraith to newly fledged vampires was not promising, not at all.

"Your will is strong. This one," she said, gesturing to the dried husk of a corpse on the floor, "begged for his life."

"The muck often do. Is this the state all your prey are left in?"

"As I have said, all living things must eat," the Wraith said, smiling with her razor-sharp teeth on display.

"I see, I believe our conversation has concluded. I will indulge in my own hunger now," Illyria stated, stalking forward to close the distance between them.

"I think not," the Wraith sneered. "Kneel."

Illyria cocked her head. "You would order me, leech?"

The Wraith snarled and raised her hand, a hand equipped with claw-like fingernails. Illyria watched as the hand descended upon her, moving to rake across her chest. _Yes, this would be most satisfying_ , she thought, _especially given how tedious this leech is_.

The claws that would have slashed across her chest were instead ripped off themselves as they met not cloth, but the hardened shell of her body. Illyria changed her form to the one most reminiscent of the days of old; if she were able to fight in the absence of those she'd traveled with, she would do so in a manner befitting to an Old One. The Wraith's eyes widened and her mouth opened to scream, but no sound emerged. No sound emerged because Illyria had ran her armor-covered hand through the leech's neck, taking hold of her spine and jerking it towards her.

There was a series of brutal cracks and the wet sound of flesh and sinew ripping apart as Illyria slowly withdrew the length of the Wraith's fragile spine through her neck. Blood sprayed across her face and the rest of the surrounding area as the Wraith's body practically exploded at the force of her attack. _Oh yes, this would be so satisfying._

The two guards were still reacting when Illyria was upon them. She stepped toward the Wraith closest to her and swung the length of spine as if it were a chain, knocking his weapon from his hand. The Keeper's spine had fragmented and broken into pieces upon its impact with the weapon, but it was no matter. She took another step closer and lashed out at his kneecap with a kick and was rewarded by the sound of bone splintering. As the Wraith began to collapse, she grabbed his right arm and pulled hard enough to sever it completely from his body. She adjusted her hold on the separated arm and threw it like a javelin, the claws on the hand extended outwards, at the other guard across the room. It was not as effective as she'd hoped, but the Wraith still grunted at the impact and struggled to remove the hand of the Wraith's arm that was now partially embedded in his thigh.

She turned back to the guard who was groaning in pain as he knelt at her feet. She smiled in satisfaction even as she swung her hand in a sweeping motion at the Wraith's skull. The skull caved in and was ripped from the Wraith's neck at the impact of her openhanded slap. The direction of her swing meant that the newly separated skull was flung once again in the direction of the other guard, who had just recovered and had managed to raise his weapon and was forced to sidestep in order to readjust his aim. But the delay was all she needed to step into his space. She yanked the weapon from his grasp and placed her hands around the leech''s skull and began to squeeze.

It could have been over in less than a heartbeat, but after listening to the red-haired worm's pathetic diatribe, she felt the need for a more satisfying ending. She _squeezed_ , slowly increasing the pressure until blood began leaking out from underneath her fingers. The Wraith was writhing as it moaned or possibly screamed in pain, she wasn't sure. She paid it little notice, instead focusing on steadily increasing the pressure she exerted until she felt bones begin to crack. Illyria smiled at the faceless thing and finally squeezed hard enough to shatter the skull and make blood, brain matter, and bone splinters splatter across her and her surroundings.

Perhaps it wasn't ruling her own kingdom or bathing in the blood of one's enemies, but it would have to do for now.

She reluctantly turned to leave the room that was now lightly painted with an appealing shade of crimson and had just reached the door when it opened to reveal one of the unmasked males. The male took one look inside the chamber and hissed at her with eyes full of hatred and the promise of retribution. He might have raised his weapon or even attempted to strike her physically, but the hand that had reached into his chest to squeeze his heart into a pulp made such an action impossible. Illyria allowed the corpse to slide onto the floor from her arm and began humming to herself as she heard the heavy tread of two more of the Wraith soldiers that took such a delightfully long time to die.

She idly wondered if the humming was a sign of the infection of humanity within her and pondered the question as she moved. Plunging her fingers through the mask and into the face of the first Wraith soldier she encountered, Illyria decided it didn't matter at this moment. Her fingers withdrew sharply, ripping his mask and most of the soft flesh that it protected from the Wraith's skull. She had always loved battle, the feel of the kill, the screams, and the sensation of bloodlust igniting her essence.

Perhaps humming the sickening melody about sunshine that the shell had once enjoyed merely added a new facet to her own natural pleasure; she nodded to herself in decision. Illyria finished the Wraith by taking the weapon his comrade carried and spearing him in the heart with the rear-mounted blade. Just to be sure, she crushed his skull with a idle kick as she began her work with the other large soldier. Hearing no other Wraith in the vicinity, Illyria decided to take her time on this one.

#

"Did you hear that?"

Faith stopped at Maj. Sheppard's question and crouched to one side of the hallway, listening. Sheppard took out his scanner and studied it intently, frowning.

"What's that?" Faith asked, nodding to the gadget.

"It's a..." he grimaced, "life signs detector, but we _haven't_ settled on a name, hopefully we can use this to find Miss Burkle and avoid any Wraith."

"Looks like the scanner thing they used in Aliens," she muttered. Suddenly she heard a moaning sound, a keening that was swiftly becoming a scream of agony that echoed through the hallways.

"I really wish you hadn't said that, Faith," the man murmured.

The scream was abruptly cut off, but the respite was brief as just moments later, another one began. Like the first scream they'd heard, it started low and ended as a howl that came from no human throat.

 _Well, thanks for letting us know you're alright, Blue One, in a new and disturbing way._

"Come on, let's go," John said in a rush, and began moving at a brisk but cautious gait toward the direction of the screaming.

Faith was careful to check the corners and their rear routinely, just as she'd been taught by Roger Watts and Jessica McLeod, but she almost walked into John when he came to an abrupt stop in front of her. Faith darted across the hall to take position opposite the major, giving herself a better field of fire and a chance to see what had caught John's attention. The man was studying his device intently, frowning as 'Winifred Burkle' quickly jogged to their position.

"Hey y'all, you come to rescue me? Thanks, that's awful sweet of you, but I already took care of that part. These guys might talk a mean game but they ain't the sharpest tools in the shed, ya know what I mean?"

Faith glanced behind the Old One to the passageway and was just able to make out an outstretched bloody hand that was all but obscured by the mist and the angle of the corridor. She raised an eyebrow at Illyria and offered the tiniest of smirks.

"Oh, well, great," Sheppard said, somewhat at a loss, still looking over the scanner. "Well, let's get back to the others."

"You got it, Ripley," Faith acknowledged.

"Stop making Aliens references, Faith, it's fucking creepy here," the major hissed at her, "now get Newt—fuck, I mean get Miss Burkle out of here."

Faith winked back at him and walked with Illyria back towards Buffy, Ford, and the occupants of the cell containing their compatriots.

It took her a moment to realize Sheppard wasn't with them, and she looked back to discover that Sheppard had actually moved farther down the hallway and was looking down at something visible through the gaps in wall.

"Sheppard, move your ass!" Faith hissed.

Sheppard finally broke free of his trance and came jogging after them, looking pale and shaken.

"What's up?" Faith asked worriedly, "what did you see?" _Shit,_ _Blue wasn't too clean about her fun. Guy looks like he's ready to blow chunks._

"Don't worry about it," Sheppard said, but was staring at Illyria, who accepted his regard with a bland smile and empty eyes. Sheppard glanced back at the scanner and then back up at the Old One, shaking his head in confusion.

 _Double shit, fucking life signs detector. Guess neither breathing nor having a heartbeat is a problem for the oversized tricorder. Ugh, not good._

"There might be another teeny, tiny, issue," Illyria said after a moment of incredibly awkward silence, holding her thumb and forefinger close together. "Apparently when the Keeper, that's the Wraith in charge of this here 'hive', died, the rest of the hive woke up, too. We're gonna have us a lotta company soon, Maj. Sheppard, we better skedaddle."

Sheppard was still looking at her but finally nodded and spoke into his radio, relaying the information.

Ahead of them, there was the telltale boom of an explosion and they ran towards the sound to see the cell open and emptying of occupants. Col. Sumner stood there with Buffy, Sgt. Bates, and the others, waiting for them even as the smoke from the door charge continued to dissipate.

#

"Major, I'm damned glad to see you," the colonel admitted, checking the pistol Ford had given him.

"I told you you'd warm up to me," Sheppard said genially, though he still looked shaky.

The colonel shook his head, but he smiled as he did so. "You found Miss Burkle then? Good, now let's get the hell out of here."

Sheppard nodded and led the party out, Sumner at his side. He waited a few moments before he spoke quietly, "actually Colonel, it was Miss Burkle who found me. She had already managed to escape."

"What? How?" Col. Sumner asked, disbelief written upon his face.

Sheppard shook his head. "I'll tell you later, but it was..." Sheppard blinked and felt nauseous remembering what he'd seen.

Sumner nodded and left it at that.

They were walking down the corridor that would lead them out of the ship when there was a sudden shout behind them, followed by the familiar sound of a P90 spitting out rounds in short, rapid bursts. Glancing behind him, Sheppard discovered several Wraith soldiers were advancing on their rear, firing their weapons into their party. All three Wraith soldiers were brought down when Miss Summers and Ford returned fire with their P90s, but their positions indicated they expected more unfriendly company.

"Ford, Summers, keeping watching our six until we're in the clear. And good shooting," Col. Sumner ordered, giving the blonde an approving nod. Thankfully, none of his people had actually been hit by the Wraith's energy blasts, so Sheppard continued onward, Sumner at his side.

Sumner glanced at Sheppard a moment later. "I apologize, Major. This is your op, you have the intel and the evac, you make the calls," Sumner said quietly.

Sheppard nodded. A concession like that was no easy thing for a man like Sumner and he wasn't so callous as to ignore it. "Thank you sir, and for what it's worth, I'm _very_ glad you're—"

His statement was cut off abruptly as a heavy body slammed into him from an unseen passage, making him stagger into Sumner and causing both men to fall to the ground. Sheppard managed to avoid landing on top of the colonel and rolled over just in time to see the Wraith soldier who'd blindsided him raise his weapon and fire a blast into Sumner. The colonel jerked harshly and then stilled completely.

Sheppard reached for his P90 only to realize far too late that the impact with the Wraith had torn the weapon from his grasp. He fumbled at his waist for his sidearm even as the Wraith turned in his direction.

"Colonel!" Bates rushed forward to help his superior, firing his own borrowed pistol at the Wraith.

Sheppard watched as the Wraith was hit several times, jerking at each impact, but the Wraith was still standing and able to raise his own weapon to return fire. Sgt. Bates, too, fell at the hands of the Wraith collapsing onto the ground close to Sumner's body. Sheppard had just managed to unsnap the button to his pistol's holster when the Wraith once again turned his weapon towards him. He tried to jerk his pistol from the holster but the angle of his body made it too awkward to remove easily and was utterly helpless as the Wraith raised his weapon.

Before the Wraith fired, there was a feminine shout and Faith was just suddenly there, in front of the others who were using the curve of the hallway to take cover from the firefights taking place in the party's rear and forward positions. She had raised her P90 to fire at the Wraith but jerked away as a blast fired at the spot she'd just been standing in. He heard her curse, and felt his eyebrows raise at the language that came from that pretty, delicate looking face. Despite the gravity of the situation, a slight smile teased his lips as Faith said some very creative things about the Wraith's mother. The slight smile disappeared as another blast came inches from her position crouched on the side of a wall, trying to line up her shot.

What happened next was something he'd never forget and would always be one of the more awe-inspiring moments of his life, even in comparison to his entering the Stargate or seeing the city of Atlantis rise from the sea. The sight he'd seen in that room, the barely recognizable pieces of Wrath that had been so viciously torn apart would also be something he'd never forget, Faith's next movements helped him do so, even if just for a little while.

"Fuck it!" the brunette cursed and threw her P90 at the Wraith.

Sheppard blinked at the...unusual strategy.

The Wrath batted away the thrown object with his own weapon before readjusting his aim. However, Faith had been moving the moment she'd thrown her P90, using the time the Wraith had given her by his knee-jerk reaction to her attack to close the distance between them.

Faith was running full speed with a single arm extended. John was once again confounded by this strategy of her's until a length of metal suddenly shot out from the sleeve of her shirt. Another length of metal then folded upwards, all of which resulted in what looked like a _sword_ attached to the girl's wrist somehow. The Wraith seemed to have the same 'what the fuck?' reaction he did, because the Wraith stumbled back to give himself more room to fire at her.

But Faith was moving far too quickly and with such grace that his next shot struck only empty air. He never got another shot, because the diminutive girl was already on him. She moved low to the ground and to the side to avoid his weapon, slicing upwards with her sword as she did so. Two hands still grasping the Wraith weapon dropped to the floor, independent of the Wraith that remained standing.

Faith's movement was fluid and her swing gave her the upwards momentum needed to rise even as she circled around the Wraith. Her follow-through had her blade slicing through the air in a backswing until blade met flesh once again. Faith's movement ended with her sword at the ready, prepared to launch another attack as she stood over Sheppard in a protective stance.

No further attack was needed, however, because the newly decapitated Wraith fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been severed.

"I think I'm in love," one of his solders said. "And where the hell can I get a sword like that?"

Sheppard ignored him, staring at the brunette who stood staring at the corpse of her foe. He might have expected disgust, sorrow, or resolve to be the dominant expression on her face, instead it was excitement and satisfaction. He shuddered as she she cleaned the blood from her blade using the body of the Wraith before collecting her P90.

"He's alive," another soldier said. "Pulse is strong and steady, I think he's just stunned."

Sheppard looked away from Faith to the soldier crouched a short distance from him. It was one of the other soldiers who'd been captured, one who was holding two fingers against the colonel's pulse and giving him a thumbs up. The process was repeated with Bates with a similar conclusion. Stunned, not killed, thank god for that.

When John looked back towards Faith whose sword had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He cursed himself for wasting his time staring and assigned Ford to carry Sumner, and the Athosian named Halling to carry Sgt. Bates.

"Come on, let's move out and get the hell off this rock."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** The chapter title is derived from the business cards used by the main character in Faith Hunter's Jane Yellowrock series. Go read it, it's good. It felt apt for this part of the story even if it was Illyria who doing most of the badassery.

PDW = personal defense weapon, a category in which the P90 is included.  
Writing Illyria is fun as hell. I'm going for creepy/borderline evil/self-interested with a side dish of 'oh I'm just a good ol' girl'. It's fun.

Telepathy and Illyria: While writing this chapter, I struggled at fitting Illyria into a situation that contained telepaths and/or empaths. While it was known that Fred's vital organs were dissolved when she was transitioning into Illyria, I wasn't entirely certain that her brain was as well. Even then, it's not like she's the run of the mill prey for the Wraith. Could the Wraith read her mind or sense her emotions? I decided to opt for an in between, where they couldn't read her mind (and thus her not being affected by their ability to project shadows) but could sense her emotions. I like allowing at least for her emotions to be felt because I thought the idea that Illyria was still somehow tied into the universe beyond the matter of her physical manifestation was important.

Would Illyria still be covered in blood even if she changed her appearance? I'm not sure if there was ever anything written or shown that would indicate it's either possible or impossible, but she's an Old One and I figured she could handle it. Although, if I remember correctly, Illyria did touch Wesley's wound when he was dying, but her hand was clean when she turned into Fred. Anyone know for sure?

Interesting fact: The Digital and Visual Effects guru who worked on SG:A said that the dimensions of Atlantis were approximately: 1.25 km in diameter, 680 m top to bottom, 320 m from top to surface. (meaning more than half of the city is still actually underwater) The main tower is close to twice the height of the St. Louis arch, damn.


	23. Gifts, Explanations, and Cthulhu

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Three**

 ** _Gifts, Explanations, and Cthulhu_**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** There is a technical error regarding Illyria's experience in her capture by the Wraith. I wrote that Illyria and the others were taken by the Wraith Darts and later deposited onto the Hive ship. I wasn't aware that the Wraith Darts' culling beams actually dematerialize people and _keep_ them in that state until they deposit them onto the Hive ship at a later time. Not sure if I'll bother fixing it, but just thought I'd give an acknowledge that mistake.

* * *

#

 **December 14th, 2005**

"Doctor Beckett, how are they doing?" Doctor Weir asked the expedition's Scottish Chief Medical Officer in their newly established infirmary.

The rescue mission had been an undeniable success; all of the expedition's missing personnel, along with many of the missing Athosians, had been recovered from the Wraith while sustaining only minor injuries in the process. Those minor injuries had ranged from sprained ankles and shrapnel wounds to the two Marines who'd been shot by the Wraith. Beckett and his small medical staff had been quick to triage and treat the wounded, displaying a level of competency which convinced the ever suspicious Athosians to allow for their kin to be treated by the strangers. Now, only a small knot of clustered personnel remained, hovering around the two incapacitated Marines.

Dr. Beckett glanced at the two men who lay unconscious, each hooked to an IV and wearing a fingertip pulse monitor on separate wheeled beds. "From what I've discerned about their physical status, they should be fine. Whatever weapon was used was clearly meant to stun rather than kill as it appears the blast specifically overloaded their sensory and nervous systems, the result of which has left them in this state. While I can't say for certain, based on their steadily improving vitals I'd wager that both Colonel Sumner and Sergeant Bates will return to full consciousness within the next few hours. I won't be able to give you a more precise estimate on when they'll be _fully_ recovered until I can evaluate them upon their awaking."

Those in attendance within the infirmary sighed in relief.

Major Sheppard ran a hand through his hair, brow furrowed as he asked, "why would they be stunning us even when we're trying to blow them away?"

"I'm afraid the answer to that isn't real pretty," the Southern accented voice of Fred Burkle replied. "These Wraith, well let's just say that they're a little higher up on the food chain than we are."

"I'm sorry, what exactly do you mean?" Weir asked with crossed arms, clearly unenthused about the girl's answer and its implications.

"They're vampires," Miss Burkle said in an almost alarmingly cheerful voice as she turned her head to meet the eyes of her two friends.

Weir noticed Faith and Buffy glancing towards one another with a strange but obviously meaningful expression. Weir eyed them unobtrusively for another moment and was pretty sure that Faith had mouthed, "I get to tell Jack 'I told you so'" to her blonde counterpart.

Lieutenant Ford guffawed, "vampires?"

"Well," Burkle conceded, "perhaps not soulless creatures of the night that feast on your blood, but they feed on humans in way that, well...vampires."

A memory of the man named Whistler telling her that Winifred Burkle was dead and of the monsters living on Earth rose to the surface of her thoughts. The description of Winifred Burkle's, or whatever she was, did not bode well for her ability to sleep later that night. She shook her head as if to clear it and turned her attention back to the conversation.

"Um, so do they have fangs?" Sergeant Stackhouse asked, looking both increasingly confused and alarmed.

"Just like any predator, they do have pretty sharp teeth, but no, that's not what I meant." The group watched as Fred strolled to the table Beckett had been using to study the Wraith arm that Sheppard had recovered from Athos. Instead of indicating for them to join her, she simply picked it up and returned to them, making several observers edge away from her and the lifeless, inhuman limb she now carried. Fred held the hand out, palm up, and pointed toward...something.

"Um...nice hand?" Ford asked.

Dr. Beckett, who had nearly protested at her manhandling of the specimen, paused and looked closely at the area the Texan was pointing at. He slowly nodded and appeared to be following the physicist's thought process. "I did notice that upon my examination, but I couldn't determine what it was precisely. If I'm understand correctly, this would be some gland or mechanism used to...feed?"

"That's sure what it looked like, but I'll have to leave that sort of doctorin' to you, Dr. Beckett, anatomy and biology isn't really my field." Fred's smile was positively dazzling in its intensity, making the Scottish man blink and flush slightly. Burkle then gained a worried countenance as she continued to relay her discoveries. "There was a man, Teyla called him Toran I think, who was taken before me and when _I_ was taken, well... I found his remains, such as they were. I don't know what the Wraith do or how they do it, but that man had...withered."

"What do you mean?" Ford asked.

"The...corpse wore the same clothes as Toran, but his body was aged, a husk, as if they had sucked the life right out of him," Fred replied with a shudder.

There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to grapple with that revelation.

"So..." Faith said slowly, "space vampires?"

"Space vampires," Ford muttered in disbelief before he shrugged, "meh. Crazier things _have_ happened to the SG teams."

Weir noticed that Sheppard had been watching Fred with narrowed eyes since she'd began speaking, but had said little during her presentation after his first question. He looked uneasy and had kept his hand by his holster, discretely, as the Texan had described her experience. Something happened on that ship, something important that Burkle wasn't saying that had Sheppard on edge, Weir deduced. Whatever it was, it seemed to have shaken the normally stalwart and sarcastic Air Force officer.

The group spent the next few minutes discussing what they'd learned, trying to tie in this new information with the history the 'Lantean' hologram had shared with them when they had first arrived in Atlantis. When it became apparent that they were beginning to talk in circles, Dr. Weir signaled the group to quiet down. "Maj. Sheppard, I expect you and Col. Sumner, assuming that he's fully recovered, to be in my office at 10:30 for a debriefing. I'll pencil the rest of the mission personnel in shortly after that. But right now, we all have some other business to attend to."

"And what's that, Dr. Weir?" Dr. Beckett asked curiously, hands shoved into the pockets of his white lab coat.

"A successful rescue mission as well as the continued existence of this city warrants a celebration, I think," Weir said with a smile. "You managed to bring everyone home alive, Major, and we just happen to have a bottle of champagne, courtesy of General O'Neill."

"Sounds like a fine idea," Fred agreed enthusiastically as several others, mostly the military personnel, cheered.

"Besides," Weir added, "I have it on good authority that it's somebody's birthday today, and we have just a few more hours to celebrate it on the right day."

"Who's the lucky lad or lass?" Beckett asked with a wide smile.

"Faith Lehane. Though I'm aware she had a private celebration this morning," Weir said, ignoring Peter's sudden choking fit, "I'm sure she'd be alright for a more public venue."

Faith grinned, at the unabashed reference to their awkward encounter that morning and at the prospect of a party. The young brunette gave the woman a thumbs up. "Wicked."

"Also as some of you might recall, the champagne was one of _two_ items tossed through the Stargate before it closed," Weir said, smiling at Faith, "birthday presents from Gen. O'Neill, SG-1 and SG-10. Faith, meet me in the Gate room in ten, and I'll make sure you get them."

Faith did a fist pump and led Buffy out of the room, but only after shaking hands and receiving pats on the back from numerous well-wishers. The others gradually left the room as well, seeking out the area Weir had designated for the celebration between the expedition and their Athosian guests.

* * *

Faith unwrapped and opened the box under the curious gazes of Buffy, Dr. Weir, McKay, and Peter, the latter two having come back to the C&C to continue their examination of the various whatchamacallits. The two had paused at seeing the wrapped package Weir had handed to Faith and decided to see what had been dropped through the Stargate for Faith. The box itself had been maybe four feet long, ten or so inches in width and six inches in height, so it hadn't been especially awkward for Weir to carry, even if it was a slightly heavier than expected.

On top of the package had been a simple note that wished Faith a happy birthday signed with Jack's distinctive signature. Upon opening the gift, she discovered that the box contained several smaller wrapped packages on top of a single larger box at the bottom. She took out the first one, a thick envelope sized package, and unwrapped it.

Inside were two framed photographs. One was her and SG-1 standing in front of the giraffe enclosure at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. It had been taken by a friendly passerby maybe a month after she'd been dropped into Stargate Command and the whole team was there, sans Teal'c's hair. More captivating was the face Jack was making as the giraffe closest to them ran its long, prehensile, blue tongue up his cheek while his back was turned for the picture. She snorted at the sight and smiled, remembering Jack's insistence that they accompany her in her first visit to a zoo and the fun filled afternoon that had ensued. Faith passed the picture to the others, letting them see, and examined the second one.

The second one was of her and SG-10, fully decked out in Air Force BDUs, tactical vests, the whole nine yards. SG-10 had taken over much of her unofficial training shortly after they'd been rescued, having been given time to salvage their lives after their five year disappearing act, and they'd taken to helping their new mascot with gusto. It was far more recent than the first picture, taken not too long before Jack O'Neill had been put into stasis in Antarctica. It was a picture of them just after she'd met the firearms proficiency and physical performance requirements necessary to join the Stargate program. Had she been a member of the armed forces, she'd also have earned the designation of expert marksman in the process.

It wasn't as if the outcome had been unexpected, but it still represented a milestone in her life as she continued to make her own path in making her own destiny? fulfillment? happiness? whatever. The whole team had dressed up in support, Jessica's idea no doubt, in a show of solidarity for their 'civvie mascot'. Faith had been smiling in the picture, smiling widely and so genuinely that she smiled even now remembering the sense of comradery she'd felt with SG-10 on that day.

Fulfilling the qualifications had required wearing the gear throughout the tests, but Jack had convinced Hammond that allowing her to keep the equipment permanently was an investment for when she had to "save our keesters from evil and/or assholes in the future." With her being the Slayer, the scenario wasn't exactly implausible; Hammond had given in with only a perfunctory objection. That gear was now safely stowed away in her room on Atlantis and she expected to use it at some point to prove Jack right. Faith passed the picture on, Buffy eagerly taking it to examine for herself.

Faith raised an eyebrow at a very small, very light package about the the size and weight of a matchbook. She opened it carefully and noticed a small slip of paper over an equally small plastic bag. The bag contained what looked like...seeds? The slip of paper that taped over the baggie had "DAISIES FOR THE SMURF" written in blue sharpie. _Man t_ _hat geezer is just asking for a world of pain,_ she thought with an inward chuckle and debated the merits of actually giving Illyria the gift. Rather than pass it around, she simply showed it to Buffy, who snorted in amusement.

Faith put the seeds into her pocket, ignoring the others' curious looks. "It's a gag gift for Fred," she explained simply.

She then dug her fingers in to take out the bottom gift. It had a little more weight to it and Faith's heart beat faster imagining the possibilities. While Sam and Daniel were always thoughtful about their gifts, theirs also tended to be more practical or intellectual, but Jack... Jack was especially talented when it came to giving gifts and she didn't believe for one second that he'd let her down this time. After opening the box, she discovered her faith hadn't been misplaced; SG-1 had delivered and it wasn't even Christmas. Inside the package was an unadorned dark wooden case that when opened, revealed two scabbards side by side and pointing towards each other, providing enough room for both to fit into the narrow case.

The hilt and pommel of each, plainly visible outside of each sheathed sword, were perhaps six to eight inches in length. The hilts were a matte black, grips made with the same material that her own M9 sidearm used, and wrapped with brown leather as adornment. The crossguard was angled slightly upwards towards the blade, extending maybe four or five inches to either side.

On top of the blackened metal scabbards was a note that read:

#

 _Faith,_

 _It was Teal'c who actually came up with the idea for the gifts after we found out Buffy was coming with you. We know that you were concerned about space issues and that you'd left a lot of your weapons and goodies behind, so we thought we'd help you out. Teal'c thought that having the two swords might give you and Buffy the chance to spar to your little Slayer hearts' content; I'm paraphrasing, if you hadn't already worked that out. According to Daniel, this type of sword was referred to as "Knightly swords" and believed they were "appropriate for mankind's Champions."_

 _Gotta say, never expected to be giving stuff like this out as gifts, but hey, never know what you'll find out there. Because we had such a short time to get it all together, I had to call in a favor to have these made before you left. You should also know that they're made out of refined trinium and naquadah like the Prometheus's hull, so go "balls to the walls" as you crazy kids put it. Thor, and the rest of us, wish you a happy birthday._

 _Jack_

 _P.S. It was Daniel's idea to add an inscription, but it was Thor who was adamant about what the inscription should be. He takes his position as your besty very seriously._

#

"Oh, shit," Faith murmured in amazement, even as she slid the note into her pocket. She wasn't sure she could pull off an explanation about what Jack meant by 'mankind's Champions' or what a Slayer was. She took one of the scabbards into her hand and drew the blade out with the familiar rasp of steel, staring at the sword as it caught the light. These swords, given that they were fashioned out of trinium and naquadah, would probably last as long as the collapsible blade Willow had spelled, and were without a doubt far sharper and lighter.

"Damn, Jack, you know me all too well," Faith murmured, running a hand along the flat of the blade.

Faith looked down the length of the blade and noticed the inscription Jack had been referring to and brought the sword closer to her face to inspect.

 _ **Í hverri kynslóð, það er valið eitt**_

"Damn if Thor can't be a sentimental guy every now and then," Faith chuckled after she finished translating the inscription.

"Ooh, pretty," Buffy cooed, looking at the swords.

After a moment of stroking, cooing, or making various noises of appreciation, they realized the other three people in the room were staring at them.

"What?" Buffy asked defensively, "they _are_ pretty!"

Weir shook her head in disbelief. "The both of you are disturbingly fond of sharp things. But to each her own, I suppose. Happy birthday, Faith, hopefully your next one will be slightly less exciting than this one, but the both of you should be proud of yourselves for your involvement in the rescue mission."

"A non-catastrophic birthday? From your lips..." Buffy murmured, making Faith's lips quirk in amusement.

"What do the inscriptions say?" Peter asked, leaning over the squint at the shiny metallic blade.

"And what language is it in?" Buffy added.

"It's Ancient Norse, I can tell that much," McKay stated confidently.

Faith nodded. "The Asgard language doesn't look like this, but it sort of sounds like it. Daniel thought it'd be a good idea to learn a little bit. This phrase was one I learned and I suppose Thor thought it appropriate."

"Thor?" the other people in the room asked in unison.

"Jack called in a favor," Faith murmured, still looking over the blade.

"And the inscription?" Peter asked impatiently.

Faith blinked. "It says," she said slowly, meeting Buffy's eyes, "Into every generation, there is a Chosen One."

There was a moment of silence before Rodney asked quite loudly, "What the hell does that mean? Chosen One to do what? Mop the floors?"

Faith snickered. "Yeah, cleaning up the trash isn't the worst way of putting it. Kinda personal though. Can't _wait_ to give these bad boys a spin."

Buffy nodded. "Let's go celebrate with the others," Buffy paused and turned to the others. "By the way, how is it that all the Athosy people can speak English?"

Rodney stepped forward eagerly. "It's actually quite fascinating, you see when the Ancients were seeding life across the galaxy. or galaxies I suppose, they—"

"Doctor McKay?" Weir interrupted, "before you head out to the party, please make sure you give me a report about how well the naquadah generators are handling the power demands of the city and our activities."

The excited scientist visibly wilted. "Fine, I suppose I better get started then."

"Ladies, I'll see you out there in a moment. I'll be contacting you sometime after 11:30 for your own debriefings. Now go enjoy your evening," Dr. Weir said, making shooing motions.

* * *

 **December 15th, 2005**

Maj. Sheppard palmed open the door, revealing a conference room already occupied by Dr. Weir, Col. Sumner, and Dr. McKay

"John, thanks for joining us," Dr. Weir nodded to him with a smile. "Please, take a seat. I invited Dr. McKay here for any insights he might have to offer on the Wraith based on what you're able to report."

Sheppard nodded and took a seat opposite to McKay, Weir, and Sumner at the odd crescent shaped table. Across from him, McKay had a small notepad with a pen at the ready.

"Colonel, you're looking much better. Glad to see you here," John Sheppard said, tone ringing with his sincerity.

"Thanks, Major. As a matter of fact, I'm quite glad to be here, too. Thank you for making that happen," Sumner replied with the hint of a smile.

"Col. Sumner, why don't you begin, start to finish, with your experiences on Athos and with the Wraith," Weir suggested, giving the man her full attention.

The colonel spoke for about 30 minutes, starting from exiting the Stargate on Athos, discovering the native people and the abandoned Ancient city, all the way to getting stunned and captured by the Wraith. Throughout his report, McKay would occasionally unleash a battery of questions that Sumner was able to field with a remarkable display of calm. Obviously, the colonel was in possession of a much deeper well of patience than Sheppard had originally ascribed to him.

"Alright Major. Why don't you start and then we'll go over it all together," Weir suggested.

"Yes ma'am," Sheppard nodded, and began.

His story mirrored that of Sumner's for the most part, the key departures being his going off with Teyla to examine their writings about the Wraith and his return to Atlantis in the company of fleeing Athosians. After that, all that remained was for him to relay the events that took place on the rescue mission.

John took a deep breath and started off by describing the Puddle Jumper, how it operated, what its capabilities were, general observations that were largely for the benefit of the Canadian scientist next to him. Then he began to describe his arrival onto the Wraith planet and the Wraith ship they discovered.

"Major, if I might ask, what made you decide to bring Miss Summers and Lehane with you on the rescue op?" Sumner interrupted after his description of their initial deployment onto the planet.

The question didn't seem hostile, just curious. Seems his success in rescuing the colonel had helped warm the colonel's opinion of him. Imagine that.

"Well sir..." Sheppard trailed off, not entirely sure how to phrase it without casting the girls in a bad light. "They...well, they threatened to hurt me." _Shit. Fail._

"I'm sorry, _what_?" Weir asked, eyes wide.

Sheppard coughed in embarrassment. "There's more to it then that. I know that Burkle is their friend and they wanted to take part in our rescue. I also know that the colonel promised them a chance to work in the field, so I decided to give it to them."

"And they threatened you?" Sumner reported with a arched eyebrow.

"They're kind of scary, Colonel, even if you have to look way down to actually meet their eyes," Sheppard replied defensively.

McKay snorted. "Better not say that to the blonde one. I heard her threaten the last guy who called her short by saying she'd make a new pair of moccasins from his skin."

"They sure don't play around, it would seem," Sumner observed, smiling despite himself.

McKay's description of Buffy's graphic threat suddenly reminded him of the grisly tableau he'd discovered in the depths of the Wraith ship. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

"Sheppard, are you alright? You're looking a little pale," Weir asked with concern.

"Sorry, Dr. Weir, just got reminded of something from the rescue op. I'm just about at that part of the story, as a matter of fact. I went aboard the Wraith ship with Lt. Ford, Faith, and Buffy. As you know, Colonel, I left Buffy and Ford behind to get everyone out the cell while Faith and I looked for Miss Burkle." Aside to Weir, he added, "she was the only one of our people missing from the cell and Bates reported Burkle had been taken by the Wraith."

"Taken?" Sumner scowled. "That girl _chose_ to go in my stead. I have no idea how she was able to escape, but it wasn't her place to put her life on the line like that by pretending to be in command."

The head of the Atlantis expedition sat back in her chair in surprise. "She _chose_ to go?"

"Colonel, Dr. Weir..." Sheppard swallowed hard. "There is something off about Winifred Burkle, something... _wrong._ "

Sumner gave him a sharp look. "What do you mean, Major?"

Weir's stomach dropped. She'd been given various warnings about the physicist: from Gen. O'Neill, from Whistler, and she didn't particularly want to add to that growing list of concerned parties. "What do you mean, Major?" Weir asked quietly.

"Two things, Doctor. One, she doesn't show up on the life signs detector—"

"I'm sorry, life signs detector?" Dr. McKay interrupted.

Sheppard took the small device out of his pocket and demonstrated its capabilities to his audience. "Found it on the Puddle Jumper, or rather the Jumper gave it to me one when I hoped for one; it helped find our people and avoid the Wraith. But funny thing, Doctor, is that it could detect Faith and I when we went to find her, but it couldn't detect Burkle, not even when she was standing right in front of me. I don't know what that means, but according to this thing, she's not alive."

Weir frowned in thought. Whistler had said that Winifred Burkle was dead, which would certainly conform to the readings of Sheppard's device. But if there was something masquerading as her, or had somehow taken over her, she should still have displayed _some_ form of life sign. She sighed and, unable to think of any other explanations, said quietly, "I'm not sure I understand the device well enough to hazard a guess as to why that's so, but I'm certainly no expert with Ancient technology to begin with. Rodney?"

Sheppard nodded and handed the device over to McKay, who looked like he was ready to climb over the table and jump on top of him to get his hands on the new Ancient equipment.

"If both you and the Wraith showed, presumably any similar life form would show as well. I'll take a look but..." McKay shrugged.

"But it's not just that. It's the second thing about her that really...bothers me," Sheppard said. He closed his eyes as he once again remembered the room that had been painted red. It was like a kid's room with all the kid's toys strewn about, except the toys in this particular room had been body parts.

"Major, what did you find?" Col. Sumner asked, his voice almost gentle but still unyielding.

"Faith and I found Burkle because we had been following the sound of someone screaming. Well, we found Burkle free and unhurt, which got me real curious about who it was doing all the screaming. So I stayed behind for a moment and did a little more exploration. There was a wall not too far from where Burkle had appeared, one with a lot of gaps that I could see through."

Both Sumner and Weir nodded for him to continue when he paused to make sure they were both listening closely.

"Well, just like Burkle said, I saw the corpse she described, that Taran guy. She was right on, looked like a skeleton, all dried up. But what really got my attention was all the blood. The blood, the body parts, the pieces of brain clearly visible on the table, the walls, the floor, everywhere."

"What?" Weir asked hoarsely, feeling sick at the image Sheppard produced.

"There were at _least_ three Wraith in that room, Doctor, and whatever happened to them made the room look like a charnel house, like they had been _slaughtered_. Then I looked at Winifred Burkle, clean as a whistle, practically cheerful, and very, very dead according to the scanner."

John leaned closer to Elizabeth Weir and Marshall Sumner, keeping his voice quiet. "Doctor, Colonel, there is something _wrong_ with Burkle."

Weir opened her mouth and closed it and glanced at Sumner who looked just as disquieted as she felt.

"We won't do anything for now, not until we have more information. If Miss Summers and Lehane call themselves her friends then we need to speak to them," Sumner spoke after several minutes of silence, then directed a questioning look toward Sheppard. "I saw Miss Summers in action for only a few brief moments, but what I saw was impressive. How well do you think they both performed throughout the mission?"

Sheppard shrugged. "Well, good news is that both of them showed up on the scanner just fine," he said somewhat sourly, but shook himself and straightened perceptibly. "I'd say that each of them proved themselves to be great assets in the field. I didn't see as much of Buffy's handiwork, but I know Buffy was actively covering our rear as we made it out of the ship. She and Lt. Ford were both responsible for taking down their own fair share of those big Wraith soldiers. But Faith..." John shook his head.

Weir cocked an eyebrow.

Sheppard whistled a long note of amazement. "Far as I know, she never fired a shot."

"I don't understand, Major, if that's the case then why do you seem so impressed?" Sumner asked.

"Honestly, I'm not sure I understand either. See, I was taught never to bring a knife to a gunfight, but apparently Faith skipped taught that particular lesson. I say that because that crazy-ass girl decided to one-up the knife and brought a _sword_ to a firefight in an _alien ship_ instead. But somehow she pulled it off, because I watched her save my ass from being stunned by the same Wraith who got you, Colonel. Apparently her sword trumps alien energy weapons because she took him down by severing both of his hands and then decapitating him all in about two or three seconds."

"A sword?" Weir asked incredulously, "where'd she get a sword?" She then paused. "And how did she hide it?"

"It's collapsible," Sheppard answered, clearly envious, "I didn't see the actual mechanism, but the damn thing came from underneath her jacket sleeve. "

"Miss Lehane really took the head off a Wraith with a _collapsible_ sword?" Col. Sumner asked after a moment.

Sheppard nodded.

Sumner whistled appreciatively. "I see what you mean about scary, Maj. Sheppard."

At the doctor's confused look, John asked her, "do you know how hard it is to decapitate someone quick and clean like that?"

"I'm afraid not, Major, I never felt the urge to learn the art of proper decapitation," she replied blandly.

Sumner chuckled at that and nodded toward Sheppard to continue.

John rolled his eyes. "It's _hard_ , You have to be really strong or have a really well-designed blade and have _really_ good aim. It's not as easy as they make it look in the movies, but Faith managed to do _just_ that."

"So Faith Lehane has a collapsible sword," McKay said slowly, "and Gen. O'Neill, the rest of SG-1, and _Thor_ just gave her _another_ sword, with a spare for Buffy."

"What?" Sheppard and Sumner asked simultaneously.

"Faith's birthday was yesterday. The other package that was dropped out of the Stargate with the champagne when we arrived here were her gifts. Gifts that included two swords with Ancient Norse inscribed on them. They're made out of the same stuff that the Prometheus uses for its hull, which as you know, is _not_ cheap. Apparently, Gen. O'Neill called in a favor from _Thor_ to get this expedited," Weir elaborated.

"How does Thor even know them?" Sumner asked. "And why would he actually involved himself in a...birthday gift."

"I'll tell you what little I already know later, Colonel, but we need to move on." Weir cleared her throat to get their attention. "Barring any developments with Miss Burkle that might reflect upon Faith and Buffy, would you recommend them for field operations again, Major? Colonel?"

Col. Sumner indicated for Sheppard to answer.

"Their actions speak for themselves, Dr. Weir. They handled themselves professionally and never put any of my men in danger. They were able to perform their duties while under pressure and conduct themselves well when the fighting began, sword fight included," John said, ending with a small smile.

Weir drummed her fingers on the table in thought. "I'll speak with Miss Summers and Lehane after I speak with Sgt. Bates and Lt. Ford," Dr. Weir announced. "Colonel, would you mind sitting in on those interviews?"

"Of course not," Sumner said. He turned to face Sheppard. "Major, I want you to look over the mission personnel and begin putting a hypothetical team together."

"Colonel?"

"Sheppard, I may have issues with your record but I would be a fool to dismiss the effort you made to ensure you left no man behind in the hands of the enemy. You did your job and you did it well. By the looks of things, it appears that we'll be making first contact regularly from now on, and I think we can both agree that you're more of a 'people person' than I am. With your success in winning over the Athosians, I think you'd be the more effective team leader in similar situations."

Sheppard's eyebrows rose at the colonel's words. "How about the Athosians?"

"What about them?" Sumner asked with furrowed brows.

"Teyla, for example. Her people are with us now, at least temporarily, and last night she promised her assistance in locating new allies," Sheppard stated, "she would be a great asset for a first contact team."

Weir looked interested at the idea but was obviously deferring to Sumner on the matter. Sumner looked pensive, and to Sheppard's relief, hadn't immediately dismissed the idea. "Let me think on that, Sheppard. I'll get back to you on it within 48 hours. I'd feel more comfortable with the idea once we get a better idea of how the Athosians propose to help us. Teyla's offer of providing security, while generous, is...complicated."

"I understand sir," Sheppard nodded. The idea of trusting people they'd just met with unfamiliar weapons and tactics in their brand new home was not something anyone would classify as ideal. Sheppard would have been prone to more of a snap decision, but Sumner's argument was more than reasonable.

"Alright, then. Think about what I said about a team, Major, nothing is set in stone, but start thinking about it. You're dismissed," the colonel said, "Sgt. Bates and Lt. Ford should be waiting outside, please show them in."

"Yes sir," Sheppard saluted and withdrew.

"Rodney, I want you to be here when Faith and Buffy are debriefed as well," Weir said.

"Are you sure? Surely Zelenka could take care of this, there are so many things I need to—"

"Rodney," Weir said with a warning tone.

"Sure, be happy to," McKay said, folding his arms in a fairly impressive facsimile of a pout.

"Colonel, do you think you could have someone flag Faith and Buffy down and tell them to be here by 13:00?"

Col. Sumner nodded and touched his earpiece, relaying the instructions. He had just finished when Bates and Ford came into the room for their own debriefing. Marshall Sumner made himself comfortable; it was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

Unable to reach either Buffy or Faith by their earpieces, Sgt. Louis Stackhouse, USMC, stood outside of Faith's quarters, failing to elicit any reaction from the inside as he alternated between knocking and shouting. After several minutes, he sighed, surrendered, and tapped his earpiece to broadcast a general message to security personnel. "Does anyone have eyes on Miss Lehane or Miss Summers?"

A chorus of 'negatives' answered his question.

Louis sighed and closed his eyes in frustration. He did _not_ particularly want to hunt down two missing people in what amounted to a city that wasn't even close to being fully mapped. He knew they could fight, they could shoot, they could even swing a sword apparently. But at that moment, all they were was a major pain in his ass. He lifted his hand to broadcast a system wide alert that they had two missing persons when he heard a soft giggle.

Confused, he glanced around until he felt a light tug on his jacket sleeve. Looking down revealed a child, one of the Athosians who were tentatively making Atlantis their home. The young girl had wound her fist into his jacket to get his attention and was looking up at him with wide eyes filled with wonder. He bent down so that he was eye to eye with her. "Hi there," he said, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

"Are you one of the Wraith hunters?" she asked in a small voice.

The Marine felt himself startle at the epithet before he nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah I am."

The girl looked down, abashed before whispering, "Teyla told Mama who told my brother who told me to go find one of the Wraith hunters and tell them about Faith and Buffy."

Louis perked up. "What did they want you to tell me?"

"I don't remember," the girl said, her face crumbling as her lower lip began to tremble ominously.

Stackhouse mentally facepalmed. Still, that lip of hers was dangerous and he couldn't help but smile at the girl despite his own internal frustration. "Alright sweetie, what is your name?"

The girl whispered, "Aleta."

"That's a pretty name, Aleta. Do you think you can take me to your Mama, to Faith and Buffy?"

The girl nodded shyly.

"Great, let's go."

Aleta beamed at him, put her hand in his, and began dragging him down the corridor.

* * *

Long before he saw them, he heard them. More correctly, he heard the clash of metal against metal. He might have sprinted down the hall to check out the commotion but for the lack of surprise displayed on the girl's face.

"What's—"

"Shh," she whispered, holding a finger to her lips.

Louis obeyed instantly and then rolled his eyes at himself. "Yes ma'am," he muttered.

The sound of metal striking metal and the grunts of exertion were getting steadily louder until he saw a small knot of Athosians peeking around the edge of a doorway. Aleta let go of his hand and was off like a shot, racing to take her place, elbowing a slightly older boy, presumably her brother, out of the way.

He tapped his earpiece. "This is Sgt. Stackhouse, I think I might have found them. I'm on the East Pier, maybe a mile from the central tower. On my way to confirm now. Stackhouse. Over."

Receiving an acknowledgement from the C&C, he made his way toward the cluster of seven or eight people and the room they were watching through the doorway. Before he'd even approached the door, it seemed obvious they were watching some sort of sparring or, judging by the clangor of metal striking metal, dueling match. The occasional and familiar sound of flesh striking flesh with violent force with a subsequent exhalation or grunt of pain was a bit of a giveaway as well. A woman, Teyla, Sheppard had named her, turned to him with eyes full of veneration.

"I have seen the warriors of your people and they are fierce and brave," she acknowledged gravely. Turning back, she continued in an almost reverent whisper, "but I have never seen anyone move or fight like they do." Teyla indicated the room with a nod of her head.

Louis's eyebrows shot up and he moved to a position where he could see the inside of the room.

"Oh," Stackhouse murmured, eyes wide as he quickly became just as enthralled as the other observers.

* * *

Faith remembered the knife the Mayor gave her, remembered her reaction to her first sight of the jackal knife. But if that knife had _excited_ her, then this sword was pure sex with a happy ending included; a weapon that possessed an unparalleled ability to mete out a Slayer's wrath.

Her naked blade brushed off Buffy's quick thrust and she delivered a rapid riposte that was similarly swept aside. The attributes she'd ascribed to her sword gave her a moment's pause as she considered whether what Buffy and she were doing was closer to sex or wrath. _Fuck, when it comes to us, it sort of goes hand in hand,_ she thought, bemused.

Unfortunately, her thoughts had distracted her, and Buffy's backhand got her square in the face, snapping her head to the side. Buffy's following spin kick to her gut deposited her on the ground several feet away. She rolled onto her back and performed a no handed kip-up, sword immediately clashing with Buffy's.

Faith and Buffy thrust, countered, and slashed, each looking for the advantage, for a way to fell the other. The Slayers eventually found themselves locking blades, faces separated only by their own blades pressed against one another. Faith moved a foot back to avoid Buffy's attempt to sweep her feet and then headbutted the blonde. Buffy grunted and fell back a step, but her blade never wavered. Faith faked a lunge but managed to turn her thrust into a downward swipe. Having fallen for the fake thrust, Buffy only avoided Faith's blade by performing a backflip, allowing the blade to sweep harmlessly beneath her.

Faith and Buffy circled one another, eyes locked, bare feet on the floor, their swords at the ready. As if there had been some hidden signal, they both came together, thrusting and slashing, cutting and lunging. They were a blur of movement, all deadly grace and controlled ferocity.

They had been at this for thirty minutes, neither Slayer willing to yield to the other. They both bore wounds by now, bloody slashes, bruises, black eyes and Faith's headbutt had apparently managed to break Buffy's nose. More unusual to their observers, was the fact that they were grinning at each other as if they'd never been having such a grand time.

Faith batted Buffy's slash to her right side and then stepped into the other girl's space to deliver an elbow strike into the blonde's sternum. Buffy coughed and stepped back again but delivered a spinning back kick when Faith advanced again.

Faith grunted at the impact on her chest and it was her turn to fall back several paces. Buffy lunged, her hand bringing down the blade from the level of her shoulder downwards. Faith swept her blade upwards to meet it causing both swords to shiver at the sheer force of the impact. But they didn't linger, both spun away and brought their swords together and danced, swords striking, and counterstriking.

Buffy lashed out with another backhand, which Faith caught and twisted, bringing both herself and the blonde's arm up behind Buffy's back. She fending off Buffy's awkward sword swing and leaned in.

"They're watching us, you know," Faith whispered into Buffy's ear, lips grazing the blonde's ear.

Faith felt the blonde shiver and smiled before cursing and stumbling back as Buffy slammed her head back.

Buffy smiled. "They've been watching for 20 minutes." She then darted back to give herself some space and brought her sword into a middle guard position while Faith left her sword trailing behind her in an extended tail guard. They circled once more, slowly.

Slowly.

Slowly.

Buffy was about to lunge when Faith suddenly dropped her sword. Buffy raised her eyebrow. "Giving up?"

Faith smiled, but said nothing as she jogged to the back of the room and rifled through the extra clothes they'd left there, ignoring the spectators. She straightened and slowly stalked toward Buffy once again. Her hand flashed out as she flung a knife towards Buffy's heart. A scream erupted from the doorway that ended in a harsh gasp of relief when Buffy caught it. Buffy smirked at Faith before looking down at the blade. She frowned, "this one isn't mine."

"Oh," Faith said, "oops."

Buffy grinned and drew her hand back and let the kris fly through the air. The scream wasn't heard again, but there were an audible set of gasps as the blade blurred towards the brunette. The gasps once again turned into exhalations of relief as Faith caught it, who then tossed the more normal looking dagger to the blonde.

"Sure that'll take the punishment?" Buffy asked skeptically.

Faith evaluated the kris Lorne had given her with a calculating eye. The kris _was_ actually made of bone and silver isn't exactly one of the more durable metals around either; it should have been pathetically fragile. She shrugged. "Lorne has yet to let me down. He would have known better than to give a Slayer a weapon that broke like a twig. Well...unless it was a stake."

Buffy snickered and held her knife up.

"Thank God, we're hot chicks with superpowers," Buffy murmured.

"Definitely takes the edge off," Faith agreed, smiling.

Buffy slashed outwards and Faith caught the vicious swipe with her kris. Buffy stepped back immediately and indicated the kris with a hand.

Faith brought the kris up, carefully inspecting the weapon for damage. After a moment, she shrugged. "Lorne knows his shit."

Faith lunged, kris extended in a thrust that Buffy batted aside. Faith spun and used her blade to counter the blonde's parrying slash. A high kick that would have caught her square in the face had her ducking low and darting in and landing a slash along Buffy's shoulder.

The blonde hissed at the sting and looked at the shoulder now sporting both a bleeding slash and a severed strap of her sports bra. Buffy eyed the brunette. "Really?"

Faith just grinned at her, making Buffy roll her eyes before attacking once again. Buffy swung downwards with her dagger. Faith brought her blade up to catch Buffy's overhanded blow then used her weight to shove upwards, giving her the space needed to deliver a lightning quick jab to Buffy's chin.

Buffy stumbled back, blinking. "You sucker punched me!"

Faith rose back to her full height and smiled at the blonde, beckoning her with a wave of her hand. "Come on short stuff."

Buffy narrowed her eyes, a dangerous glint appearing in their mesmerizing green depths. She readjusted the knife so the blade ran perpendicular to her arm, blade angled away from her.

Faith mirrored her pose and lost her smile, sensing the end of the fight drawing nearer. The girls advanced cautiously until they were six feet away from each other, when Faith launched herself in the air, performing a front flip that left her kris clashing against Buffy's dagger.

This time, they didn't step back or retreat. They were a flurry of slashes and fists, forearms sliding against one another as their blades met. Faith delivered another elbow strike, this time to Buffy's injured shoulder, who answered with a knee to Faith's rib. The resulting crack left them tied for broken bones.

Faith didn't stop, throwing her arm in an uppercut to swipe her blade upwards. Buffy's blocked the attack but Faith used the opportunity to lunge forward. Buffy moved her body sideways to dodge the thrust and then extended her own knife out to answer with a lunge, but Faith instead grabbed onto Buffy's arm and jerked the blonde to her. When they were practically face to face, Faith accepted the punch to her face in order to gain her desired position.

Faith dropped her kris from her right hand and struggled to use her left hand to keep Buffy's blade away while she brought a foot behind Buffy. Faith accepted another knee to her injured rib, the jarring impact making her grunt at the stab of pain. Faith then grabbed Buffy's throat and pushed her back.

The blonde's grip on the dagger faltered as she toppled over the foot Faith had left behind her. Faith used her right hand to increase the force behind Buffy's fall until Faith let herself fall as well. Buffy hit the mat with an explosive exhalation of air and wheezed as Faith fell on top of her immediately after. But Buffy hadn't lived for almost a decade as a Slayer to be taken out by a simple Judo takedown. The blonde grabbed Faith around her chest and rolled them over so she was on top.

Faith smiled inwardly, having already anticipated Buffy. Despite the pain in her ribs, she wrapped her legs around the blonde and used her left hand to take hold of Buffy's right while her right arm bent over the same arm, collapsing Buffy's arm almost instantly. Faith used her right arm to keep pinning Buffy's arm to her chest while her left arm grabbed Buffy's shoulder.

Faith uncrossed her legs and used her left hand to pull Buffy forward even as she slipped to the side. Still holding onto Buffy's arm, her legs caught Buffy over the neck and under the armpit and then pushed Buffy to the ground. Buffy gasped, her arms stretched painfully in Faith's grasp over the brunette's stomache, while Faith held Buffy down with her legs. Every time the blonde tried to maneuver out of the hold, Faith would simply adjust or pull Buffy's arm even harder, her perpendicular position making it easy to keep Buffy trapped.

"When the fuck did you learn Jiu-Jitsu and Judo?" Buffy gasped, tapping out.

"Judo was prison, free classes. Why they thought it was a good idea, I don't know, but I had fun. Jiu-Jitsu...well, you really think I was in Colorado learning how to not freeze my tits off in the cold for _two years?_ Watts may act like a spaz, but dude is like a wolverine in the ring."

Disengaging, they both slowly staggered way to their feet.

"Fuck B, this rib is broken," Faith said with teeth gritted.

"Yeah, well you broke my nose!" Buffy retorted, wiping a hand across her face watching as it came away bloody.

"You elbowed my boob!"

"You slapped my ass!"

Faith smirked. "It's called an open palm strike, B, not my fault your ass got in my hand's way."

Buffy growled at her.

Someone coughed.

"What?" they asked in unison, standing side by side.

The uniformed man swallowed, either at the sight of them or at the ferocity of their question. "Col. Sumner, Dr. Weir, and Dr. McKay would like to see you in..." the man looked at his watch and paled. "20 minutes."

"Ah, shit," Faith cursed. "Stackhouse, right?"

"Sgt. Stackhouse, Louis if you like," the man confirmed.

"Alright Louis, let 'em know we're on our way as fast as we can limp," Faith said with a mischievous smile. "Girl here," she nodded toward Buffy, "knows how to pack a punch."

Stackhouse shook his head, but dutifully tapped his earpiece to deliver Faith's message. He idly wondered what they'd make of their appearance. And if that wasn't the longest, most intense, and most impressive display of martial arts he'd ever seen, he'd eat his tac vest. It was unprofessional of him, but he couldn't help but look forward to seeing the reactions of Weir, Sumner, and Mckay when they eventually staggered in.

* * *

There was a soft chime at the door, which subsequently slid open to reveal Sgt. Stackhouse, who immediately stood at attention. "Dr. Weir, Col. Sumner, I have Miss Summers and Miss Lehane with me, I apologize for the delay."

Sumner waved it off. "Thank you Sergeant. Please, show them in."

Stackhouse, who was wearing an odd half-smile on his face, turned to beckon the two young women to enter the conference room. Upon entering the room, the two girls dropped their gear unceremoniously to the floor with a resounding 'thud' and clatter of metal. Wearing gym shorts and loose tank tops that were stained with blood, they sat down gingerly at one end of the oddly shaped table to face their fellow expedition members. All of whom just stared at them, eyes wide.

"Sorry we're late, um, do any of you have some medical tape or somethin'? I have a rib I need to tape up," Faith asked demurely, looking hopeful.

The two doctors and older Marine just shook their heads at the sight of their bloodied, bruised, and battered bodies.

"Um, were you attacked?" McKay asked, eyes like saucers.

"Nah, just a really good sparring round," Faith said with a wide smile. "You'll be happy to know, Dr. Weir, that the swords work."

Col. Sumner cleared his throat. "Pardon?"

"The new swords Thor and SG-1 got us, we gave 'em a test run," she elaborated. "Haven't had a good sparring match like that in ages." The brunette stretched in satisfaction before cringing and holding a hand to her side.

"We need to get you guys to medical, right away," Sumner said authoritatively, finally coming to his senses.

"No, we're okay. But you could just get Dr. Beckett to bring us some medical tape and butterfly bandages?" Buffy asked, then winced. "Maybe something for a broken nose too?"

"You must be joking," Weir said flatly.

"I've had worse," the Slayers said simultaneously.

"What? How?" McKay asked incredulously.

"I died," Buffy said flatly.

"Coma for eight months," Faith added.

McKay just stared at them.

"I got better," they replied in unison.

Faith turned a delighted smile towards Buffy. "You _did_ pay attention to Holy Grail. Atta girl!"

Buffy smiled and shrugged.

"Both of you, go to Beckett, _now_. We'll take a break for lunch and start again when you don't look like you've been run through a meat grinder," Weir commanded. Looking at her watch, she added, "make it 14:30."

The girls sighed, nodded, and stood up with only a few hisses of discomfort.

* * *

An hour and a half later the girls returned, now wearing their Atlantis uniforms featuring the black swathes on the front indicating their role in security and military operations. Their faces and visible skin was blood-free and the more serious cuts bandaged, Buffy was holding a bad of ice to her nose, and by her stiff movements, Faith's ribs had been bandaged. In other words, it no longer looked as if they'd been freshly beaten and tortured, much to the three interviewers' relief.

"I want to make sure I understand this. This," Sumner said indicating their state, "is a result of a _sparring_ match?" At their nods, he continued, visibly angry. "This isn't something that can happen again, do you understand me? You have incapacitated yourselves to the point where I can't include you in Atlantis security, let alone in any field operations for at least two weeks!"

"It's not that bad, Colonel," Buffy protested. "We'll be fine in a day or two, I promise."

"Even if that's true, which it obviously isn't," Sumner said, "it's unacceptable. I have no problem with you choosing to practice your...swordsmanship, or to spar with one another; I would encourage it even. But it is quite another matter entirely to spar with one another to the point where injuring yourselves like this can happen."

"I understand, Colonel," Faith murmured, a statement echoed by Buffy shortly after.

Sumner and Weir exchanged a look and sighed. McKay cleared his throat in discomfort.

"Faith, Buffy..." Weir trailed off, looking at them while considering her words carefully. Finally she blew out a breath and leaned forward, staring at them intently. "Is Winifred Burkle dead?"

"Wow, you really just put that one out there," Faith muttered, rocking back in her chair. The Slayers glanced at each other for a long moment before Faith answered in a quiet voice. "Yes."

"So what is walking around in a Burkle suit and for how long?" McKay asked incredulously. "I was going to ask her on a date before Zelenka got to it. Please tell me she's not a Goa'uld." McKay paused. "Can I still ask her on a date?"

"Shut up, McKay," Sumner and Weir growled in unison, glaring at the Canadian physicist.

"Illyria has been around for almost two years," Buffy answered quietly.

Faith huffed out an annoyed gust of air. "I'm guessin' Sheppard told you about her invisible man act on the scanner given your asking about her being dead and all. No, she's not a snake, if she was I'm pretty sure she would've shown up."

McKay nodded in confirmation. "We believe so."

"Then what is 'Illyria'?" Col. Sumner asked, eyes hard and mouth set.

"Complicated," Faith replied.

"Very complicated," Buffy agreed fervently.

"She has layers, like an onion."

"And like onions, you'll cry if you try to peel them," Buffy elaborated, "or bleed, or scream...well you get the point."

"Gen. O'Neill knew about this?" Weir asked, barely maintaining her facade of calm in the face of their flippancy about this new revelation.

"Yeah," Faith confirmed, "but—"

"I asked him if she, or either of you, would pose a danger to this expedition, and he looked me in the eye and told me 'no'," Weir stated angrily and opened her mouth to add more when Faith interrupted her.

"I'm betting those aren't the words he used."

Weir narrowed her eyes. "And why is that?"

"O'Neill didn't want to lie to you, Dr. Weir, to either of you. So he told you as much of the truth as he could without endangering our chances of coming along but to also help you accept the truth whenever it came out. And we knew it was just a matter of time, Colonel, Dr. Weir; you can't hide someone like Illyria once shit starts getting crazy."

Sumner rubbed his forehead, a tension headache beginning to make itself known. "Continue please, starting with why Gen. O'Neill would _want_ 'Illyria' and the two of you to go with our expedition, and what Illyria actually is."

Weir paused as something occurred to her. "O'Neill mentioned at one point that you, Faith, and Burkle were a package, does that have something to do with it?"

Faith nodded hesitantly, before huffing out a breath and rolling her eyes. "I'm her 'guide'," Faith said, using bunny ears for quotation marks.

"Her _guide_?" McKay asked, "to what?"

"Remember how we said that Illyria is complicated? Well, we weren't lying and her current state adds another heaping portion of complicated on top of it all. Illyria has stated that she needs a guide, someone to help her understand the world, understand humanity, to help her...find her way, I guess," Buffy said slowly.

"O'Neill didn't necessarily want her off-world, but it was a better alternative than leaving her on Earth," Faith added. "You remember getting all your people off the base in Antarctica to McMurdo so O'Neill could use it for a day?"

"How'd you—" Weir began.

"B and I were there with Illyria, along with Daniel Jackson and Thor for a meeting," Faith interrupted. "Thor had been charged by Asgard High Council, the Nox and apparently whatever Furlings are around to verify and report on her presence. Were she to stay on Earth, things would have become...tricky."

"I don't understand, how—" McKay was about to ask before he, too, was interrupted.

"These are questions we can answer later, McKay. My point is that Jack wasn't trying to dick you guys around. If he was putting the expedition in danger, then you can be comforted by the fact that he did so to lessen the danger to Earth," Faith said. "But he knows that Illyria, and us, can help. You just need a little—"

"Do not say 'faith'. Just...don't," McKay demanded with a grimace.

Weir opened her mouth to speak but Col. Sumner put a hand on her arm.

"Putting the issue of Jack aside, how long exactly has she been on our world? I believe you said she'd been around for two years, is that how long you've known about her or how long she's been on Earth? And why wouldn't Gen. O'Neill raise an alarm about something like this in the first place?" Sumner asked with gritted teeth.

"Well, nobody in the SGC knew until a short time after Jack was revived from stasis. As for the rest...that's part of the complicated, Colonel. Basically..." Buffy trailed off, looking at Faith for help.

Faith sighed, this wasn't going to be simple, easy, or pleasant. Luckily, being a Slayer had prepared her for such occurrences. "Look, I need you to listen to this carefully. All three of you. You need to _hear_ what I'm saying, okay? Illyria, she isn't new to Earth. From her perspective, _we_ are."

"We...?" McKay asked, before adding, "what?"

"You know how we sometimes make jokes about someone being old enough to remember the dinosaurs? Well, Illyria, she actually does," Faith said blandly. "And she remembers when the Ancients—Alterans, whatever, first set foot on Earth. That's part of why she understands their tech and language," she said, nodding towards McKay, whose eyes were alight as understanding began to dawn on him.

"The Ancients knew about her then? Or about her kind?" Weir asked. "And who exactly are her people? If they're still around, wouldn't we know about them?"

Faith blew out a breath. "She doesn't have a species, if that's what you mean. But those _like_ her are known as the Old Ones and she's the only one of her kind that still walks among us. And yes, the Ancients knew about them, knew enough about them that they didn't give you any hints as to their existence or their fate so that you wouldn't go lookin' for them."

"'The only one of her kind that still walks among us'," McKay echoed. "Did they ascend like the Ancients?" the doctor asked.

"No. They were, at great effort and cost, captured and entombed," Buffy said.

"Cost and effort to whom?" McKay asked.

"The Ancients, the Nox, the Asgard, and especially the Furlings," Faith replied. "Ever wonder why you've never seen the Furlings? Or why the Nox are so reclusive? The Old Ones are why. They, the Old Ones, were...well basically they were everything the Goa'uld like to pretend they are. Gods from our perspective. What took the Alterans millions of years of evolution and their advanced technology to accomplish were the things Old Ones could do instinctively using only their...essence? as power."

"So why capture, or entomb? Why didn't the Ancients or Asgard just kill them?" Col. Sumner asked.

"Because they can't die," Buffy answered flatly. "Or at least, not the more powerful ones. And Illyria, she was one of the most feared Old Ones."

"So where are they entombed? I'm assuming Illyria escaped, shouldn't we have known about it so we can guard it? For that matter, if she's so terrifying and dangerous, why is she bothering to play human?" Sumner asked, anger evident in his tone, though his anger no longer seemed to center on them or even Gen. O'Neill.

"And for that matter, what happened to Winifred Burkle?" McKay added.

"The Deeper Well is where they're buried or entombed, which the Furlings were largely responsible for creating. See they figured out that though the Old Ones' essences or whatever couldn't be destroyed, they could be...contained. It's why the Old Ones went all Death Star on their homeworld once they figured out what was happening. And we're not saying a word about _where_ it is, but it _is_ guarded," Buffy answered

"Death Star on their homeworld?" McKay repeated slowly before he asked in a shrill voice, "they wiped out the Furlings?"

Buffy and Faith nodded. The brunette elaborated further. "Mostly. That's what Oma Desala told Doctor Jackson and Illyria confirmed it."

"You mentioned the people who paid the price for capturing these Old Ones. Was the Alliance of Four Great Races started _because_ of the Old Ones?" McKay asked before immediately moving on to a new question, "and how would these Old Ones even be able to fight if they didn't have technology?"

"No to the first," Faith said instantly. "Oma Desala told Daniel Jackson that the Alliance became part of the war, but it began primarily as a way of sharing knowledge and technology. The other races were just drawn into it. McKay...they didn't need technology to fight."

"That makes no sense!" McKay exclaimed, shaking his head. Sumner remained quiet, watching the two Slayers with a calm intensity.

"Illyria was able to live in multiple dimensions at once, Dr. McKay," Buffy said quietly. "Could teleport across distances and dimensions at will. Everything the Ancients could do, they could too, without any technology and using only their own energy. To the Old Ones, they never thought they were in a war. Their fight with the Ancients and the others...it was fun for them. They were happily fighting amongst themselves the whole time, probably the biggest reason we're still here today. The Old Ones...they _are_ power."

"Christ," Col. Sumner muttered, looking upwards as if seeking answers. He brought his head back down and looked at them levelly. "If this 'Deeper Well' _is_ guarded, how did Illyria escape?" Sumner pressed, a finger tapping on the table in emphasis.

"She didn't," Buffy said. "A human, a really stupid human managed to sneak her out. That man loved Fred, and he believed that the girl of his dreams would make the perfect embodiment of his 'goddess'."

"The asshole arranged for Fred to be alone with the container of Illyria's essence. When Fred opened it, Illyria's essence went to the nearest vessel, her," Faith said, shaking her head. "The dumbfuck didn't even realize that by doing so, he was killin' Fred."

"It wasn't Illyria's decision, it wasn't done under her direction or encouragement, she had no control of her circumstances until Fred was dead, dead so that Illyria might live." Buffy met the eyes of those on the other side of the table as she defended the Old One.

"How did she, Fred, die? How did Illyria _accidentally_ kill Fred?" McKay asked softly.

"Neither of us were there, but we heard from someone who _was_ that it wasn't an instant thing, but the moment Illyria got inside Fred, Fred's body started turnin' into somethin' Illyria could take over. Fred's internal organs were destroyed and she became, well, Illyria calls it a shell," Faith answered, grimacing at the blunt description.

"Could you have saved her? Could you have stopped Illyria while she was...transitioning?" Weir asked.

"Yes," Faith answered harshly, "and millions of people would have died as a result."

There was silence as the others adjusted to that information.

"As for why she's not using our heads for drums and our spinal cords for maracas, there are two reasons. One is because she's not as powerful as she used to be. Can't really do her Cthulhu thing anymore. Two is because I agreed to be her guide," Faith said.

McKay choked. "Cthulhu?"

"Yeah, if you wanted to physically describe the Old Ones back in the day, Lovecraft wasn't far off, tentacles and size and all. Anyway, see, us mortals can't contain all that power the Old Ones could. Her big old badass self couldn't stay quite so badass because of the 'pathetic weakness' of her new shell. She's lost most of her power," Faith said, then held up a finger and lowered her voice. "But you see, she gained something, too."

"What?" McKay asked, he and the others leaning forward to hear Faith's lowered voice.

"Fred's memories. Memories and maybe even some of her emotions. Flashes of sentimentality that are completely alien to a being like her. It's why I'm her guide," Faith said, still speaking softly. "She's agreed to refrain from killing indiscriminately, to blend in with us 'lowly muck' because she, even if she won't admit it, desperately wants to understand the 'infection of humanity' inside her."

"How comforting," McKay remarked dryly.

"It should be," Faith said. "You know how she defined winning back in the day? when she first came back?"

"How?" Weir asked, enraptured in Faith's tale.

"'To never die and to conquer all. That is winning.' She's come a long way from that and it's one of the reasons why I'm willing to be her guide. Well, that and I couldn't actually stop her even if I wanted to."

Weir looked down for a moment before she glanced at Sumner. "Col. Sumner, Rodney, do you have any more questions?"

McKay shook his head. "You've said that you are Illyria's guide, why you specifically?"

"I wasn't the first; the first was a guy named Wesley. Wesley, he loved Fred, not like the guy who was obsessed with her, Wes genuinely loved her. He loathed Illyria because she took Fred from him, but he was the one willing to help her when she lost most of her power. But remember those memories she got? Well, she remembers Fred loving Wes back, and even if Illyria can't really comprehend it, all of a sudden humans aren't quite the same pond scum she remembers. She's been sort of listless since Wes died and I think it's part of why I'm her guide, which ties into the other reasons she chose me."

"One was that, according to her, I wasn't boring like the rest of the 'muck', that like her, I too had hit rock bottom and managed to scramble my way back up. That, unlike the others, I'm willing to do what needs to be done, even if what needs to be done isn't somethin' pretty. The second reason was her discovery that I might be traveling through the Astria Porta."

"She's been through the Stargate before?" McKay asked.

"Twice," Faith said flatly.

"What happened the first time?" Sumner asked, obviously sensing her discomfort.

"There was another city-ship like Atlantis, um...what was it called, B?"

"Lyonesse?" the blonde suggested.

"The lost city mentioned in Arthurian legend," McKay nodded, "and?"

"She traveled through the Stargate to reach it," Faith said, crossing her arms. Seeing Sumner's steady stare, she sighed, "and she burned it. Anything else you want to know?"

Sumner considered the two girls. "About Illyria, no, well none that I'll ask now. But I do have a few questions for the two of you. How is it that you know so much about these Old Ones? And now that I'm looking a little more closely, how is it that several of your bruises have already noticeably improved after less than two hours?"

Weir and McKay both blinked and then narrowed their eyes to inspect the girls' injuries.

Weir's face suddenly lit with some burgeoning idea. "I was speaking with Gen. O'Neill about you. He said that you'd never heard of the Stargate, of the Asgard, of any of this until Thor beamed you directly into the SGC briefing room. O'Neill said that even though you knew nothing of them, the Asgard knew of _you_. Why?"

Sumner's eyebrows rose at that and raised a hand to cup his chin, eyes fixed on the girls. "And I believe it was mentioned that Thor was crucial in fashioning your new swords with which you've displayed such enthusiasm? The swords that the base has been buzzing about ever since Stackhouse described your sparring match in the mess?"

Faith winced and nodded.

"The inscriptions," McKay crowed. "The inscriptions on your swords that are in Ancient Norse that you said were personal. _Thor_ was the one who inscribed them, right? You said it meant...it meant—" Canadian snapped his fingers, trying to remember.

"Into every generation, there is a Chosen One," Buffy and Faith chorused.

"And would the reasons Thor and the Asgard know of you, the reason you were brought to Stargate Command's attention in the first place, be related to your relationship with Illyria?" Sumner asked, eyes intent upon the young women.

Faith and Buffy glanced at each other and shrugged.

"There's a bunch of Ascended beings who ain't anything like the others you know. These ones directly opposed the Old Ones millions of years ago and didn't mind getting their hands a little dirty from time to time. They worked with the Nox and the Alterans to develop a weapon to fight the Old Ones, and the lesser creatures that fought for them," Faith explained.

"A weapon to fight the Old Ones," McKay repeated, "like your _swords?"_

"No, not the swords," Buffy said quietly. "You're missing the point of the inscription, Doctor. The blade is not the weapon. The weapon is the _girl_."

Dr. Weir and the others exchanged confused looks. McKay finally asked, with his usual sarcastic tone, "since you're both declaring yourselves the "Chosen One" may I remind you, Neo, that there are _two_ of you. And Thor calling you "Chosen One" seems...out of character for him, for any Asgard for that matter."

Faith sighed, "Thor knows the stories, McKay, it's in their history. He knows what happened and how B and I fit in."

Buffy nodded. "When one girl dies, another is Called. On and on and on for thousands, or millions of years. See, not long after I got Called, a big nasty managed to drown me, but a friend managed to give me CPR, but I was dead just long enough for another to be Called," Buffy replied, "and when she died, Faith was Called. And thus, Chosen Ones."

"So you're a Chosen One," Weir said, with a voice laced with irritation. "I believe Rodney asked last night what you were chosen _for?_ You just said that you were _weapons_ , weapons for what? If the Old Ones are gone, why were you 'Called' at all?"

"Look, we don't actually go by that as a title. It's just a way to pretty up what the dirty reality actually is," Faith said, crossing her arms.

"We're Slayers, that's the best and most common way to refer to us as," Buffy nodded towards Faith. "And even though the Old Ones are gone, there are still plenty of leftovers to take care of. Their bastard offspring, hybrids, whatever. A lot of 'em originally came to Earth from other dimensions, some of which like to kill, eat, or maim humans in terrible and gruesome ways."

"Truth is," Faith added, "all those things that go bump in the night, they aren't made up, at least not all of them. B and I, the others who are in the know, we're the ones that keep them in line."

"Sunnydale," Sumner said suddenly. "Sunnydale is where you lived, where both of you lived for a time. The city which collapsed just days after you, Faith, broke out of prison. There was something there, wasn't there? The same something that attracted a rogue NID operation that _no one_ will talk about?"

The Slayers dipped their heads in agreement.

"You said you were 'Called'," McKay asked, "through what mechanism? And what actually happened when you're Called? And for that matter...if all this is true, shouldn't you be on Earth?"

"Earth is very well protected now," Buffy said, "Sunnydale had a lot to do with that."

"Couldn't tell you how we're Called even if I wanted," Faith said, "but B and I, we were both plain old vanilla human until one day we're suddenly superheroes because some chick a thousand miles away just bit the dust. Bloodlines are part of it, but the PtBs have a hand in it, too."

"I'm sorry, PtBs?" McKay asked.

Buffy grimaced. "The Ascended beings Faith referred to earlier, they call themselves the Powers that Be. They just love to involve themselves without actually doing any real wetwork themselves. They're all about visions, prophecies, and having annoying people do their bidding."

Weir blinked. "Does the name 'Whistler' mean anything to you?"

Faith shook her head, looking confused.

Buffy however, groaned and let her head fall to the table with a loud 'thud'. She then looked up and gave the former diplomat her undivided, and not entirely friendly, attention. "Explain," the blonde demanded flatly.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** For Faith's gifts, I wanted it to be a combination of sentimental and kick-ass. A Knightly sword runs less than 3 feet in blade length and have an average weight of 2.4 lbs. The swords I'm giving Faith/Buffy are substantially longer (though not out of the realm for that type of sword) and would give them a weight closer to 3ish lbs each. I figure the combination of trinium _and_ naquadah would result in a sword of similar weight (because super-light  & super-dense materials = regular weight, right? For these swords, they do. So there). I initially wanted to them some badass shotgun (Saiga-12 hm?) or Buffy a pink LAW or something. But they're already hanging around guns so *shrug*

Most modern pistol grips are made out of G-10, which is close to carbon fiber in terms of strength and durability. Unlike most other materials, it does NOT conduct electricity. This was the material I referred to that the swords' grips are made out of.

Translations _:_  
 **Í hverri kynslóð, það er valið eitt** = _In(to) every generation, there is a Chosen One._  
As it turns out, there isn't any Ancient Norse to English translator that I could find. However, Icelandic is apparently supposed to be very, _very_ close, so I used that. Also keep in mind that I used google translator so...yeah. I wanted to do Sumerian at first, or Latin, but there was no translator for the former and only bad translations for the latter.

As far as I know, Stackhouse was never given a first name, correct me if I am in error, but I figured Louis was nice and all-American. I always figured that Slayers were tough, but I never really looked to see how tough they were or how fast they healed. If you're curious about whether my timeframe for them to recover is at all accurate, check out the page on Slayers from the Buffy wiki. They are ridiculous.

I was tempted several times to shorten the conversation about Old Ones with Weir and Sumner to something like: "And they proceeded to tell him xxxx and then they finished." But I wanted this explanation to occur in each part of the story, just as a refresher because of the mixed canon interactions, and I wanted their reactions, I wanted the leaders of the expedition to show their shock, or outrage, or whatever, so I elongated it. Further explanations of the Slayer, Old Ones, vampires, or whatever will be considerably smaller. So yeah, biggest departure so far from SG:A is that Sumner lived, if you don't remember, it was Sheppard who pretty much took control of the military contingent, but Bates who took over internal security.


	24. Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Four**

 _ **Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Alright folks, enjoy the chapter and have a happy new year! In celebration of the new year, I'll be posting chapter five tomorrow or monday. It's going to be _long_ and action packed. Happy new year and may 2017 be more enjoyable than 2016!

We lost so many great people in the last few weeks, but only one truly affected me.

Goodbye, Carrie Fisher. You were so many things to so many people: Rebel princess and the daughter of Darth Vader in a galaxy, far, far away, the girlfriend of Elwood Blues, the raunchy nun in Jay and Silent Bob Strikes Back, a wonderful actress, and an absolutely brilliant screenwriter. You confronted the personal trials of your life with a strength and determination one might have expected of a true princess of Alderaan. Carrie Fisher, you will be missed.

* * *

#

"What the hell?" Doctor McKay asked the moment Buffy and Faith left the room. McKay struggled to speak before finally repeating himself. "What the hell?!"

"About this...Whistler," Colonel Sumner began as he directed his attention to Doctor Weir, but the former diplomat held up a hand to cut him off.

"I know he represented a breach in security, I should have said something, I know—" Elizabeth Weir said, before the Marine interrupted her.

"That not what I was going to say, Doctor. In light of everything we just heard, I understand why you didn't tell me. I even understand why General O'Neill didn't tell me. What I don't understand is how any of this is true to begin with or why this Whistler believes that Illyria is _our_ responsibility." Col. Sumner's voice had slowly risen in volume as he spoke before he caught himself and ended his tirade with a deep exhalation. "I'm getting too old for this shit, if you'll pardon my language."

Dr. Weir waved him off.

"What the hell?" McKay repeated for the third time.

Col. Sumner said nothing, but he wholeheartedly agreed with the Canadian's overall sentiment.

After a back and forth discussion about Whistler and the Powers that Be, the three interviewers began asking about Slayers. There the answers provided by the two young women became more vague and their willingness to field those questions waned in the face of McKay's continuing skepticism that bordered on hostility. Buffy, visibly annoyed by then, asked if they had any spare steel or iron rods that had accompanied the expedition or if they'd found anything similar in their exploration of Atlantis. The question had garnered her some strange looks from her audience, but Sumner had radioed in to relay the question at her insistence.

As it turns out, one of the rooms they'd explored and secured in the short time they'd been on Atlantis had held a veritable bounty of parts and materials. Control crystals, crystal power cells, environmental suits, a stash of what were presumably maintenance robots, handheld equipment both familiar and unknown, and even a cache of drones had been found. That room had also included raw materials mostly consisting of metallic parts of varying shapes, sizes, and compositions. One such item was a cylindrical rod that had been identified as having an alloy composition approximate to steel.

A few minutes later, a soldier couriered the rod into the conference room and deposited it onto the conference table with an audible grunt. After his dismissal, the three onlookers looked to Buffy for an explanation. Faith indicated the rod with a wave of her hand. "Go on, pick it up. Get your hands on it. Feel it, feel how strong it is."

Faith rolled it over to McKay.

The Canadian looked at her skeptically, but took the rod with both hands and hefted it into the air for a few seconds before quickly setting it back down onto the table with a heavy thud. Buffy hadn't quite been able to conceal her snicker, making the physicist flush in embarrassment; a weightlifter, their physicist was most certainly not.

Weir and Sumner did as instructed before the Marine rolled the bar back towards Faith with an inquisitive look.

"What's this all abo—" Weir began to ask, but stopped when Faith, stood, grabbed the bar in one hand, lifted it, twirled it like a baton before bending it in half. She tossed it at the now standing Buffy, who caught it and bent it back into its original shape. Then the 'Slayers' had the conversation they'd evidently been preparing for but hoping to avoid.

#

 _"We're Slayers, Col. Sumner. We fight bad guys, we fight monsters; it's what we do and what we are. If you—we, have a bunch of monsters to fight, Colonel, then please let us help," Buffy said quietly._

 _"And Illyria?" Sumner asked. "What would she be doing?"_

 _"She can help us fight or she can help McKay geek out. But she_ can _help either way," Faith stated adamantly, ignoring McKay's startled 'Hey!'._

 _"You see our injuries, Col. Sumner? Faith's broken rib, my nose, the slashes? We'll be 100% by tomorrow, tomorrow night at the latest. You can trust us to fight with you!" Buffy urged him._

 _Dr. Weir cleared her throat. "I don't believe it's a matter of us trusting you, ladies. Not the two of you, at least. Would you agree, Colonel?"_

 _Sumner gave the head of the Atlantis expedition a long look before he slowly nodded at the girls. "I won't lie and say I'm without reservations, but you've done nothing to disappoint me or put any of my people in danger. Yet. Assuming you_ can _do all of the other things you've mentioned, or demonstrated, I'll have to rethink a few ideas I've had about future missions. If I'm to fit you into Atlantis security and field operations in order to make effective use of your...talents. In the meantime, you're dismissed."_

 _The girls nodded and stood back up._

 _"And ladies?" Sumner asked. Once they turned around, he gave them a faint smile. "Thank you for helping Sheppard and his team to rescue my men and I from the Wraith."_

 _They'd smiled brightly at him and turned around to leave when Faith and_ _turned to look at them. "Colonel, Doctors, what are you planning on doing about Illyria?"_

 _When neither Weir nor the other two replied after a moment, Weir gave the brunette a curious glance. "What would you suggest?"_

 _"Do what you've been doing,_ _giving_ Fred _orders, get her to run experiments or do research with all those scientists who want to get in her pants, whatever. But the moment you believe you can order_ Illyria _to_ do _something with that commanding tone you sometimes get, she'll go all Tasmanian Devil on you," Faith replied. The brunette paused, obviously struggling to put her thoughts into words. "You understand? Don't_ ever _forget that even if she's being all sweet Texan sunshine, Illyria is still staring out at you from those warm, brown eyes. She knows she's to take orders or follow your directions, but Illyria is one prideful bitch; don't ever forget who you're really talking to."_

 _Faith turned her back and walked out of the room, Buffy at her side, but before taking the final step out of the room, Faith turned once again with a grimace. "Also, Illyria likes to insult humans; she can get real poetic about it, in a gruesome kind of way. Don't take it personally because she'll get her hate and disdain on for just about any species."_

#

"So to summarize: we have an ancient powerful being in this city, something older than even the dinosaurs, and its the occasional massacre that it finds entertaining." Sumner muttered, shaking his head before glancing back at the rod.

Weir looked at the object of the Marine's attention and shook her head in like-minded bewilderment.

"Whistler didn't give any specifics—" Weir began, but was interrupted as McKay began speaking with an agitated, annoyed voice..

"Hence Buffy's annoyance, yes." McKay interrupted, "She _did_ say that he worked for the 'good guys', or whatever passes for good guys when it comes to beings living on another plane of existence, anyway."

Weir glared at him until he fell silent. "We...I at least know that some of what he told me can be confirmed. He told me we could _change_ their problem, Illyria I'm assuming. Faith said that, as her guide, she's been teaching her about our world, about humanity. Maybe we're supposed to contribute to that, to help her see things from our vantage. Whistler said that she could help solve _our_ problem, the Wraith presumably. Given Sheppard's claim regarding her...performance, I think I can understand his point," Weir said thoughtfully, but not without a hint of bitterness.

"So what? We just let Cthulhu run wild?" McKay asked in disbelief.

"You really fixated on that, didn't you?" Sumner asked, bemused despite the subject.

McKay sniffed disdainfully, but said nothing..

"You know what I'm curious about? What sort of 'creatures' require the sort of abilities these girls possess in order to protect us?" Elizabeth Weir wondered aloud.

"Faith talked about things that go 'bump in the night'. Combined with the fact that they call themselves 'Slayers' and there are some creepy implications," Rodney murmured. "They _did_ seem to _like_ the idea of the Wraith being—" the Canadian hesitated, "—vampires."

There was a long silence in the room before Weir blew out a breath. "Colonel, you meant what you said about Faith and Buffy? Keeping them available for field operations?"

Sumner nodded again, frowning as he considered the situation. "We haven't had much time here in Pegasus and I've spent a lot of it unconscious, so there are still some things I need to check on but... The way I see it, our first and foremost need is to acquire information. We need to know more about this galaxy, about the major players _if_ there are any other than the Wraith, and we need to know more about the Wraith themselves if we want to stand up to them in a fight."

Marshall Sumner leaned back in his chair, brow still furrowed in thought. "Sheppard is going to be an asset. I'd be blind not to admit it and he is probably the best soldier under my command to handle first contact scenarios. He's adaptive, effective in combat, and most importantly, the damn man is likable."

Weir smiled at that and nodded for the Marine to continue.

"We're going to need several different reconnaissance teams to get us that information, bare minimum four people each, but we do _not_ have a lot of manpower to spare, Dr. Weir. If we're willing to trust even a handful of the Athosians to work with us, it will take a load off my back. I'm not at all fond of the idea of training and equipping them and letting them handle our security, but if they're willing to go out with our teams as guides, they'll not only dramatically increase our teams' effectiveness at navigating foreign lands and peoples, but free up our personnel to assist in securing Atlantis."

"And the 'Slayers'?" McKay asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'd want them to run with the reconnaissance teams for awhile, get them used to us, and allow us to get used to them and their talents. Once we learn more about the Wraith, or if we have any threats or situations to deal with, we can adjust their role."

Elizabeth Weir raised her eyebrows in question. "To what?"

Sumner grunted in dark amusement. "Apparently, these young women are Slayers, Dr. Weir. I'm going to let them slay."

* * *

Faith plopped down onto the plastic chair in the mess, Buffy doing the same next to her. They sat on the brown folding chairs clustered around the white plastic tables that the expedition had brought with them. The furniture had been setup in a particularly large outdoor space and even if the chairs were cheap, the view was priceless.

Faith examined her plate and growled. "This sucks."

Buffy looked at her own plate, filled with the remains of the lunch they'd missed due to their extended meeting, and took a bite. "Schnitzel is pretty good."

Faith took a bite and shrugged.

"Okay, what's wrong?" the blonde asked, glaring at Faith.

"What isn't?" Faith asked, groaning as she moved her plate and let her head fall to the table.

"We both knew they'd find out eventually," Buffy pointed out.

"It's been _two_ days, B. Two days!"

Buffy winced, but brightened after a moment. "But..." she said, drawing out the word and bumping the brunette with her shoulder, "we got to kill space vampires."

Faith lifted her head up, and peered sideways at her lover. "We did, didn't we?"

"And Thor gave you some pretty badass swords, right?"

Faith nodded more enthusiastically.

"So one might say, all things considered, that it's actually been pretty...wicked," Buffy teased.

"Yeah, I guess it has," Faith agreed and took a bite of the fried dish. "Not bad."

"Told ya," Buffy said cheerfully.

They ate in silence, looking out over the balcony of their gleaming silver city as the sun began its slow trek towards the horizon.

* * *

 **December 17th, 2005**

Col. Sumner tapped his earpiece. "Major Sheppard, Sergeant Bates, and Sergeant Stackhouse, report to the conference room at 10:30."

Hearing the three men's acknowledgments, he went back to pouring over a manifest of the expedition's personnel. In addition to that, he now had a separate list on his datapad that Maj. Sheppard had compiled of their Athosian guests and those willing to work with Atlantis personnel on field missions. Marshall Sumner rubbed his forehead, tapping the device to produce a separate diagram he'd been provided by Doctor Grodin about the city's status. What had been explored, what had been secured, where had this and that been found, so many details that he truly wished he'd brought an aide. He only had so many men to divide between securing the city and to send out in recon teams.

He sighed and looked at his wrist to check the time.

He had thirty minutes before his chosen team leaders would arrive and there were still a myriad of things to get finished. He stretched his neck and shoulders, wincing at his joints popped. Sumner put the stylus to his lip in thought and then paused. _Yeah...that might work,_ he thought to himself, selecting several of the individuals on the tablet and grouping them. _That'll work just fine._

#

"So, you wanted to see us?" Maj. Sheppard asked, indicating himself and the two men at his side as he entered the conference room

Sumner gritted his teeth at Sheppard's ongoing laid-back demeanor, then inwardly rolled his eyes at himself. They'd both have to get used to each other and he just _knew_ that Sheppard was doing it deliberately just to annoy him.

"Yes, Major. Gentlemen, sit down."

The three men standing at attention sat down, looking at him expectantly. He repeated the relevant parts of his conversation with Dr. Weir two days prior, specifically his thoughts about the teams and their purposes. When he was finished, he pointed a finger in their direction. "You gentlemen will be the leaders of Atlantis's First, Second, and Third Reconnaissance Teams. Each of your teams will share a common purpose but will vary in specialty and each of you _will_ bring an Athosian with you to work as your guide and to liaison with any locals," Sumner announced.

When he noticed Sgt. Bates preparing to mount a protest, Sumner spoke directly to the darker-skinned man, "this is an order, Sergeant. I don't care if you don't like it; the fact is that we need the manpower and their participation will free up some sorely needed personnel here in Atlantis. There are precious few of us and keeping Atlantis secure is no small task. Furthermore, each of you will be responsible for arming and training your...cultural attaché _as well as_ any civilian taking part in your missions.

"And gentlemen, you _will_ listen to what the Athosians have to say. They know this place, we don't. I don't care how much you think you know better, you listen to them when they say you should or shouldn't do something, you got me?" Sumner questioned, looking each man in the eye.

"Yes sir," the three chorused. Bates looked unhappy, but resolute in following his commanding officer's order.

"What about you, sir?"

It was Sheppard who'd asked the question and Sumner thought he saw a measure of regard in the younger man's eyes that he hadn't previously enjoyed before he'd been rescued. He'd impressed the major, Sumner realized, likely for his handling of the Athosians. _Bully for me,_ he mused.

Sumner gave the Air Force officer a wry smile. "I'll be taking over as the Head-of-Security of Atlantis. I've established a pretty good rapport with Dr. Weir and somebody has to take charge of not only the civilians here, but the Athosians as well. I'm not turning a blind eye to them, Sgt. Bates, as I'm sure you'll be pleased to know."

Bates had the grace to look embarrassed, but he nodded his understanding.

"The absolute priority for all reconnaissance teams is to search for and obtain a ZPM for Atlantis. Without one, we are effectively defenseless and without any means of contacting or traveling back to Earth. If there is _any_ indication that your team might have found one, you are to contact Atlantis immediately, understand? The second mission priority for all teams is to perform reconnaissance; we need to learn what's out there. Sheppard, you'll be leading the First Atlantis Reconnaissance Team. You'll be handling first contact ops and initial reconnoitering."

Sumner turned towards the darker man who, like him, had been captured by the Wraith on Athos. "Sgt. Bates, AR-2 will be led by you. You'll primarily be conducting in-depth reconnaissance on the Wraith or suspected Wraith positions reported by AR-1, but you'll be doing escort duty for our civilian experts to conduct scientific research on the side. Stackhouse, AR-3, you'll be working backup for both teams, but I intend to turn your team into more of a special tactics unit once we know more about our new galaxy and the Wraith."

"Will you be assigning people to our teams?" Bates asked, "or do we have the freedom to pick?"

"Some personnel will be assigned to each of you, the others you can pick for yourselves," Sumner answered. "I've already taken the liberty of selecting your science geeks."

Bates snorted in amusement.

"Sheppard, you're getting McKay. Bates has Corrigan, and Stackhouse will have Burkle," Sumner said the last while staring at Sheppard, who jerked at Winifred Burkle's name. The major looked at him for several long seconds before he nodded slightly.

"Remember, all three of you need to make sure your non-military personnel can take care of themselves. I want to see your proposed team roster on my desk within 96 hours. Sheppard will provide you with information about any of our guests who willing to work with our teams. That should give you enough time to find one of the locals you'll be able to get along with. Once your teams are assembled, you'll be given some time to train together here on Atlantis, but I expect to begin field operations in no more than two weeks. Clear?"

"Yes sir," the men echoed.

"Then get out and get to work," Sumner told them sternly. As the men stood to leave, he cleared his throat. "Stackhouse, stay for a second, I need to talk to you."

"Sir?" the young brown-haired man prompted, sitting back down.

"Besides Miss Burkle, I've already assigned two others to your team. Miss Summers and Miss Lehane, both of whom I believe you've met." Sumner smiled inwardly when the young man flushed slightly.

"Yes sir. They're...impressive. I wasn't on the ship during the rescue mission, but from what Sheppard described and from what I saw of them sparring..." Stackhouse shook his head as he trailed off. "At least I won't have to worry about how well they can take or throw a punch."

"No, no, I imagine you won't," Sumner agreed with a twitch of his lips. "Sergeant, you _can_ choose another member of the military detachment for your team, but I don't think you'll _need_ someone else. Your biggest obstacle won't be your combat effectiveness, it will be for you and the two young women to get used to each other's...mindsets, I suppose is the best way to put it. Though they are both undeniably skilled warriors and self-disciplined, they are still civilians with civilian habits; you'll have to get used to each other. I won't coach you on training your guide, I'll leave it up to you. Like the civilians and scientists on the other teams, Burkle isn't going to be running with you on every op, only when it's clear she'll be needed. I can assure you, however, that she's tough, can shoot, and can deal with a bad situation with a level head."

Sumner folded his hands on the table and gave Stackhouse a level look. "After your group has a few missions under its belt, your team is going to be the one focused on running missions against the Wraith and teaching other populations to engage the Wraith in asymmetric operations. I mentioned you'll be performing as backup earlier; part of that will be running search and rescue ops as needed if the other teams are detected or need help bugging out."

Seeing the young man's somewhat dubious expression, Sumner chuckled. "Relax, Sergeant. Faith Lehane has spent the better part of the last two years unofficially training with SG-10 and was cleared to officially join the Stargate program and one of their SG teams. Summers is, by your own report, in superb physical condition and is as capable as any fighter we have here in Atlantis. All she lacks is book knowledge, something which Lehane has been tutoring her to an unknown extent and proficiency. Both Summers and Lehane are friends with Burkle, which should also help curb the tendency of many scientists to ignore our advice or orders in the pursuit of 'knowledge'."

Stackhouse blew out a breath. "You're making this seem awfully simple, Colonel.

"It won't be, Sergeant," Sumner said with a grim smile. "You still have to get Summers up to speed and get everyone on your team used to working together and working under _your_ orders. I suspect you'll have your hands full on that last one, by the way," Sumner added with a brief chuckle. "Take the time you have to get your people ready, Louis, because I want your team ready to kick ass if they have to."

Stackhouse nodded slowly. "Aright sir, I won't let you down, but if I might ask, why not Sgt. Bates and his team? If you want to assemble a special operations force, why would you include two green civilians, even ones as capable as they are?"

Sumner gave the man an enigmatic smile. "When you figure it out, why don't you come back to me and we'll talk about it."

Stackhouse still looked confused but saluted and left the room. However, when the door slid open to admit the Sergeant out, Sheppard was there waiting. The major stepped back inside the conference room the moment Stackhouse had cleared the doorway.

"Sheppard," Sumner acknowledged.

"Burkle?" Sheppard asked without preamble.

Marshall Sumner sighed. "She's complicated and she's on our side."

"And dead," Sheppard supplied.

"And dead," Sumner agreed.

Sheppard studied the colonel for several moments. "Did you get answers?"

"More than I ever wanted," Sumner answered, as truthfully as he'd ever been in his whole life.

Sheppard blinked. "Alright..." Sheppard said slowly and waved a hand in a rolling 'get on with it' motion.

"If you want to know, ask her yourself," Sumner said, a little more harshly than he'd intended. The colonel took a deep breath. "I apologize Major, that was uncalled for. I did get answers, but the ones that I have are not ones I'm willing to share at this time," the Marine said, unclenching the fists he hadn't even felt himself make.

The major watched him for a moment before he nodded and turned to leave. "I'll get my team together and let you know. And thanks for giving me McKay, kinda like the guy."

Sumner snorted as he watched the Air Force major leave the room. "At least someone does," he muttered.

* * *

"Sergeant..." Elizabeth trailed off, unable to see the man's name with his back turned.

The sergeant, who had been walking up the steps leading to the DHD room, revealed himself to be a young brown-haired man with the Canadian flag emblazoned onto his jacket sleeve. "Chuck, ma'am."

Weir nodded. "Chuck, then. I know I ordered the plants removed from the Gate room but I hadn't expected new ones to have been planted or sprouted so quickly. Do you know who's been working on them?"

The man looked surprised. "It was the late addition, ma'am, Miss Burkle. I think Doctor Zelenka gave her permission and one of the botanists gave her some of our extra seeds to work with. She's been in the Gate room tending the plants every morning at sunrise since the day after we rescued her and the others from the Wraith. She's not really all that talkative when she's working with the plants, but I can't argue with the results."

Elizabeth furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Doctor, Miss Burkle planted all of these as seeds and it's only been a couple of days; like I said, she's got quite the green thumb. If you don't mind, Dr. Weir, I really should get back to the DHD room to help Drs. Grodin and Lindstrom out. We're mapping some of the subsystems of the DHD device and the other equipment, see what there is to learn. Apparently it's really exciting stuff, but I'm mostly there just to lift things and nod in agreement at whatever they say."

"Of course," Weir murmured and crouched to examine the pot on the floor of the Gate room.

Emerging from the dark, damp soil were several stalks of bamboo at least two feet high, ringed by flowers of some sort that had already begun to sprout leaves, but hadn't yet blossomed. In a loose circle around the bamboo was a dark vine, just starting to sprout tiny leaves but with no other discernible traits yet. Curious, Weir reached out a hand to inspect the vine.

"You shouldn't touch that barberry, Dr. Weir."

Weir jerked at the sound of the southern voice. Winifred Burkle, no, _Illyria_ , stood perhaps three feet away wearing a smile that went nicely with her tan Atlantis uniform and blue accented jacket.

"It's a pretty vine, has all kinds of uses; my dad taught me how to prepare the berries for eating and even for making dye." Illyria smiled, and a passing Marine tipped his hat at her, smiling in turn. "One of the botanists was kind enough to give me a few seeds when I mentioned my experience with the plant." The Old One walked forward to crouch at Weir's side and reached out to lift part of the small vine for Weir's inspection. "You see, Dr. Weir, the thorns on these vines are pretty sharp, so make sure you don't get hurt trying to poke it."

The look in the Old One's eyes made clear her meaning even if her pointed description of the plant hadn't. "I understand, Illyria, just as I hope you understand that your actions will reflect on your guide and her companion," the doctor said quietly.

Illyria nodded and smiled a Fred smile, caressing the vine heedless of the thorns she'd warned of before straightening and walking away. Weir remained behind, watching as the vine seemed to shiver before growing several inches longer.

* * *

 **December 29th, 2005**

"I really...really...want to get this thing off of me," Faith said in a strained voice.

"You sure? Kinda cute in a bloodsucking way," Buffy said lightly, though her eyes were fixed on the disgusting insect thing that had attached itself to Faith's neck. Those green eyes held promise of something far worse than a big can of Raid.

"Memories of Angel, right?"

"Bitch." Buffy punched Faith in the shoulder.

The bug hissed at her as Faith's body rocked at the blow.

Buffy hissed back.

"Okay, so how do we get this thing off?" Buffy asked the other occupants of the Puddle Jumper.

Louis Stackhouse, who had joined Buffy in her crouch around Faith, shook his head. "Well, the bug is doing something, but damn if I know what."

"I'd say it's consuming her life like one of them Wraith. Seems appropriate given that we were on their world," Fred said with a shrug.

"I have heard of such creatures," Halling murmured, "but only in stories meant to scare the young ones."

"So what do we do?" Buffy asked, voice steady but eyes filled with worry.

"If the bug is feeding on her life, then it's quite simple," Fred said, smiling. "We have to kill Faith."

Faith stared at her. "Fine, I take back all the nice things I ever—" she stopped, groaning as the insect's legs fastened tighter. "—I ever said about you."

"Well not permanently, dummy. Just long enough for it to look for somewhere else to feed." Fred frowned at the looks she received.

"Is there no way to kill the creature without it harming Faith further?" Halling asked.

"I shot it and it nearly choked Faith out as it regenerated its wound. I tried to physically remove it and same thing. Little fucker is strong and if I ripped it out, Faith's carotid would've gone with it," Stackhouse said grimly. "Markham, are we nearly there?"

"Yes, Sergeant. Chevrons already encoded, we'll be in Atlantis in another 45 seconds," the pilot called back.

"B."

Buffy bent down at Faith's whisper. "What?"

"When we get to Atlantis, get the kris and pigstick this fucker," Faith ordered quietly.

"I thought we just established that it was a _bad_ idea to do that," Buffy said, crossing her arms and glaring at the brunette.

"Yeah, but see I've been thinking about the kris ever since I got the thing. Lorne gives me this super cool mystical kris and tells me it'll bring me luck and shit. We get here and we learn we have our own race of big bads to deal with. You and I, we've seen all sorts of mystical weapons and they never come with a goddamn instruction manual."

Faith paused. "Well the Scythe and the Troll Hammer are pretty clear cut, but you know what I mean."

Buffy nodded.

"So I've been thinking: what good is a mystical weapon in a galaxy that doesn't have any mystical bad guys? What good is a mystical dagger against space alien-vampires with space guns? Then I think, well even if they have space guns they still have to get up close and personal to eat, right?"

"And...?" Buffy asked, confused.

"That kris, I'm betting it has to do with the Wraith, given that _Lorne_ gave it to me. If it does, then it's gotta do something either to the Wraith, the victim, or both. So stab it and see what happens and if it behaves the same way it did last time then all it'll do is get a little grab happy."

"Stab it and see what happens," Buffy repeated blandly.

"Has that strategy _ever_ failed us?" Faith countered.

Buffy opened her mouth, closed it, and grimaced.

#

"Bates isn't going to be happy we had to come and bail his ass out," Stackhouse muttered.

"Would he not be grateful to be rescued?" Halling asked, confused. "It was his quick thinking that allowed Atlantis to receive the message about his situation, wouldn't he be gratified that it saved his life and the lives of his men from being fed upon by the Wraith remaining on that planet?"

Stackhouse nodded. "He will be, but he'll complain." The Sergeant glanced at the rear hold where Bates and his men were resting. Stackhouse chuckled, "I'm afraid to say Halling, that my people are very good at complaining."

"Perhaps, but they are resourceful and strong," Halling said, nodding towards Buffy.

Remembering the blonde snapping the neck of the Wraith soldier who had stood over Faith with an audible 'crack', Stackhouse nodded. "Yes, yes we are," he murmured.

#

"Sergeant, what's the situation?"

Stackhouse looked up to see the colonel entering the infirmary, Dr. Weir at his side, and walk towards him. Louis met them halfway and gave his commanding officer a salute and the doctor a respectful tilt of the head.

"Colonel, after departing Atlantis and arriving at the Wraith homeworld, we discovered that the Wraith ship which had been stationed there had disappeared. Halling is convinced that it means the Wraith are now culling humans again," Stackhouse reported.

"Since we didn't see any Wraith ships on or leaving the planet, I operated on the assumption that there was still a Wraith presence on the planet itself. Halling told us the most likely places for the Wraith to keep any humans they didn't immediately feed on and we split up to check it out. Fred went with Sergeant Markham to repair AR-2's damaged Puddle Jumper that we found not too far from the Wraith's ship previous location. I'm assuming AR-2 made it back here after they fixed the engine pod."

"Yes Sergeant, he did, and I can't say I'm displeased that you were able to salvage it," Sumner said with a smile, indicating for the Marine to continue.

There was a sudden shout and they both looked as Faith arched her back as the insect made a loud trilling noise. After half a minute or so, Faith let her body fall back onto the bed, gasping. Dr. Beckett put down a bottle containing some sort of liquid and ran his fingers through his hair in agitation.

Weir put a hand on his sleeve to get his attention. "Sergeant, we can't do anything in there but get in the way, please continue."

Louis swallowed and turned back to the colonel and Dr. Weir. "Faith and I checked out the most likely site, Halling and Buffy the other. Sgt. Bates, Dr. Corrigan, Yamato, and Parker were at the A site. They were chained up in a cave, but mostly unhurt. Bates and Corrigan were stunned, Yamato and Parker had been slapped around, but they hadn't been fed upon in the manner Fred had described. Faith and I were able to neutralize the six Wraith soldiers who had been watching over them, although we never saw who they were watching them _for_."

The Marine sergeant glanced over at Faith, who was giving the middle finger to an indignant Doctor Kavanagh. He snorted in amusement, but lost his smile quickly as he turned back to Weir and Sumner.

"Faith radioed Buffy to relay that friendlies had been recovered and it was to bug out. Faith watched our ass while I carried Bates and Yamato and Parker took care of Corrigan. We were maybe 100 meters away from the Jumper when six more Wraith soldiers ambushed us. Faith got hit by three or four of those stun blasts while I had to drop Bates and dive behind a fallen tree for cover before returning fire. I kept the Wraith's head down while Parker and Yamato took Corrigan towards their Puddle Jumper."

Louis glanced once again at the brunette. "It's the damnedest thing though, I _know_ Faith got hit by those stunners, but she wasn't down for more than 15 seconds. They walked past her trying to get at me and I managed to watch her fish out her M9 and shoot the bastards. Popped them each in the back of their skulls, nice and neat. Damnedest thing.

"She was on her feet after another 15 seconds and running within a minute. We were 20 meters from the Puddle Jumper when I heard Faith cry out; when I looked behind me, I saw that bug attached to her neck along with one of the unmasked Wraith standing behind her. That's when Buffy and Halling come running out of the brush toward the Puddle Jumper. Buffy sees us all, yells at Halling to get Parker to the other Jumper and starts firing at the Wraith.

"The unmasked ones aren't stupid though, sir, they won't stand there and take bullets like the soldiers do. Buffy signaled for me to cover Halling while she attempted to sneak around him, so I laid down some fire to keep the Wraith's head down. The next thing I see is Buffy jumping over that boulder he'd been using for cover, flipping him over her shoulder like a sack of corn and then running a damn tree branch she'd picked up somewhere right through the Wrath's chest. Damn woman knows how to improvise, that's for sure."

Weir glanced around. "I'd have expected Buffy to want to be here, Sergeant, do you know where she is?"

Stackhouse shrugged. "I heard that she was going to get Chris? Not sure I know whom she's referring to—maybe someone she's dating?"

The former diplomat's lips twitched. "Ah, I don't think so. I wonder—"

There was a sudden commotion as Buffy came running into the room holding...something. Col. Sumner, Dr. Weir, and Sgt. Stackhouse all had to step back from being run over by the blonde whirlwind.

"Hey, you can't be here, this place is for doctors and medical staff only," Dr. Kavanagh's condescending voice boomed out.

"You're not even a medical doctor! Now get out of my way or I'll make you even less of a man than you are now," the blonde said with a dangerous tone, waving a...knife?

Dr. Kavanagh fainted.

"Seriously? Wow," Buffy commented disdainfully, and stepped forward to meet Dr. Beckett.

"Now, lass, I don't know what you think you're doing, but I can't let you back here when you're waving that...what the bloody hell is that anyway?"

"It's a kris, and Faith asked me to bring it here," Buffy answered, holding it up for his inspection.

At the naming of the item, Weir, Sumner, and Stackhouse exchanged surprised looks.

"Even though I was wrong about her dating someone named Chris, I wouldn't be surprised if she's involved with _that_ kris. Faith seems _inordinately_ attracted to edged weapons," Louis commented dryly.

"You're not wrong. One of the days you were working with Halling, I caught her petting her sword while she was observing you," Sumner said, a wry twist to his lips.

They both turned from their banter to see Beckett questioning Buffy about her intentions.

"Look, even if she asked you to bring that, what exactly do you think you'll be accomplishing?" Beckett asked patiently.

"I don't know, but we can find out!" Buffy said with a dazzling smile.

Beckett didn't buy it. "Look lass, your friend is in danger and we're working on getting her out. I'll allow you to stay in the room as thanks for making that wallaper Kavanagh be quiet for once, but you need to give us space."

"Wallpaper?" the blonde asked, nose wrinkled in confusion.

"Bloody Americans, just sit down over there, Miss Summers," Beckett said.

Buffy rolled her eyes, looked around, spotted Weir and smiled mischievously. "Oh my god, Beckett, there's a naked woman in here!" she cried out loudly, tapping his arm and pointing in Weir's general direction.

"What? Where?" Beckett said, looking frantically in the direction of Buffy's finger.

Buffy darted past him, leaned over the grinning Faith, and thrust the knife into the bug.

Twice.

"Die you weird vampirey insect piece of crap!" the blonde growled.

Three times.

Four times.

"B, I, uh, think you got it."

Five times.

"Yeah, you can stop now, there ain't much left to stab and this is givin' me some not so fun flashbacks," Faith murmured, looking slightly pale.

"Oh, right. Sorry," Buffy muttered, looking at the splatter of insect goo that littered Faith's chest and the immediate area. "Well, guess it worked."

Faith snorted.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

Buffy winced, looked at the raised kris she held and cringed. As if things weren't uncomfortable enough, the kris had decided that it was a good time for the bone of the blade to suddenly become an iridescent silver. The inlaid silver that had once adorned the blade was now golden and had changed into some form of writing.

Beckett was staring at her, at the kris, then at Faith, and back to her.

"Look, naked woman?" Buffy tried weakly.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This was mostly a filler chapter designed to set the stage for the kris as well as the highlight the fact that it wasn't just Sheppard who did crap. Both Bates's (even if they got caught) and Stackhouse's recon team actually did shit. This also helps to date the story based on the canon timeline (the bug thing happened in the episode Thirty-Eight Minutes, the forth episode of the show). The maintenance drones and environmental suits I mentioned as being found in the room containing random crap were actually used in Stargate: Universe, but I figured it was pretty likely Atlantis would have the same or similar items, yes? God forbid the Ancients go into construction and repair their own shit.

The steel rod I used as an example would have weighed close to 70ish lbs. In terms of accuracy: Buffy has been able to bend steel on the show at least twice. Once were the barrels of hunter's rifles, and twice being the bars of a jail cell.

The naked woman bit with Beckett seems immature but if you watch the first few episodes of SG:A, Beckett talked about getting a girlfriend or a date a _lot_. So...that's where I'm coming from, not just a lame juvenile attempt (on the Writer's side) to distract.

Side note: There's a movie called Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot with Tina Fey that was really quite good.

Again, I got a HUGE chapter coming along that is in the editing phase. I hope to release it tomorrow to celebrate 2017


	25. My Faith Protects Me, My Kevlar Helps

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Five**

 _ **My Faith Protects Me, My Kevlar Helps**_

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Holy long chapter, Batman. Originally, this was a 5 or 6K word filler chapter. But then I decided I wanted a good action scene and... Yeah, I really wasn't expecting this beast of a chapter, but I did manage to shave off a few thousand words by adding them to the next chapter. Because of the amount of time and effort I spent on this chapter, there will probably be a delay in releasing chapter six.

* * *

#

 **December 30th, 2005**

"Well hello, Faith, how are we feeling today?"

Faith glared at the annoyingly cheerful doctor from her bed in the infirmary. " _We_ have been _fine_ ever since Buffy made like Norman Bates on the bug yesterday."

Doctor Beckett winced. "Aye, she did seem quite keen on killing the beastie. And speaking of which..."

Faith followed the Scotsman's gesture to the doorway as Doctor Weir and Doctor McKay came into the room, the latter holding her kris that had yet to revert to its original state. The only thing that hadn't changed was the wavy shape of its blade found in most krises, something she was grateful for, though she wasn't going to lie and say the silver and gold look didn't work for her. Because it did, oh yeah, it did.

"Miss Lehane, mind if I ask you a few questions?" Weir asked as she came to stand by her bed.

"Could I stop you?" Faith asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, you could. And you are under no obligation to answer; this is _not_ an interrogation but we would value what you have to say," Weir answered firmly.

Beside her, still glaring at the kris, McKay snorted in derision.

Faith eyed him but nodded to Weir. "Guessing you want to know about that?" she guessed, nodding toward the kris.

Dr. McKay spoke before anyone else had a chance. "Now, as you know we tried more than a few methods of removing the bug, we tr—"

"Doc," Faith interrupted, "I was there. Get on with it, you want to know about my kris?"

"It _is_ yours, then?" Weir asked curiously, glancing toward the blonde Slayer who was sleeping upright in a chair some distance away.

"Yeah, I told Buffy to grab it when we landed," she confirmed, her attention still on Buffy's slumbering form. Faith winced, adorable as she was, B was going to wake up with one helluva crick in her neck.

McKay huffed. "Okay, fine. Doctor Beckett tried to remove the insect with a scalpel with no luck. In fact, we nearly did the same thing your knife-happy friend did, to absolutely _no_ avail. What is this and how did it change from an impressive looking but ornamental dagger into _this_?" The man held up the transformed kris, looking both agitated and extremely annoyed; business as usual for the Canadian.

Faith glanced back toward the man and recognized the look in the physicist's eyes. It was the look Sam would get when she had some ridiculously complex puzzle to solve and when Sam got that way, she wouldn't stop until she'd figured it out. McKay was probably the same way, but unfortunately for him, she didn't have the answers he was looking for.

"It's a kris, beyond that, don't really know," she answered with a shrug. Telling them that the strange and mysterious blade had been a gift from a green-skinned, horned, red-eyed, singing demon whose only hint as to its purpose had been a bit of cryptic advice seemed...unwise.

"You said you asked your friend to grab this...kris, specifically. Why?" Weir asked more diplomatically than her impatient colleague.

"It's complicated. Very complicated," she murmured, looking away from them to stare at her kris. McKay and Weir straightened slightly and looked very intently between her and the kris.

"Well bloody simplify it, lass," Beckett demanded, his brogue a little thicker than usual as his own irritation surfaced. "How did you even get this? Rare weapons are one thing, rare weapons that have bits of the Ancient language on them is quite another." The Scottish doctor pointed at a ring of writing around the pommel of the blade. "I may not know much about the language, but even I can recognize it well enough."

"Ancient?" Faith echoed numbly; she'd been so focused on the shiny blade that she'd entirely forgotten about the new inscriptions on the weapon,

"Oh, you didn't notice?" McKay asked sarcastically, and held the kris closer for her inspection.

Faith looked it over, let out a gusty sigh, and let herself fall back onto the bed. The intensity of their questions and depth of their curiosity made far more sense now that she realized their interest lay beyond the weapon's ability to kill the spider-bug-thing when all else had failed. "Will you hate me forever if I say my bartender gave it to me?" Faith replied weakly.

McKay eyes narrowed dangerously and neither Weir nor Beckett looked any more pleased with her answer.

"Let me ask this instead," Faith said slowly, licking her lips. "I saw the writing on the blade after it...changed, but didn't have any time to take a look before you, _Meredith,_ carted it away. What does it say?"

McKay's lips tightened.

"We don't know," Weir said, lips twitching at Faith's dig at McKay, "not entirely. There appears to be writing in several different languages, some of which we have yet to identify."

"Oh."

"Oh, she says," McKay muttered sarcastically and then shook the kris in his exasperation. "What do you know about the dagger?"

"Kris," Faith corrected automatically, then waved off his impending tirade, "and if you keep shaking that at me, I will hurt you."

When the man finally stopped, she continued, "I know precisely bupkis, McKay, and that's the truth. I'm serious when I said a bartender, a good friend of mine, gave it to me; he said it'd bring me luck. All I know is that it's old."

McKay scoffed. "Old?"

Weir glared at McKay until he quieted. She brought a nearby stool to her bedside and took a seat, looking at her with an almost burning curiosity. "Faith, we haven't been able to get a precise age, but a preliminary analysis of your kris puts it at over 80,000 years."

"Oh," Faith murmured once again, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed.

"80,000 years?" Beckett repeated, eyes wide as he turned to Weir.

"At least," Weir confirmed.

Once she'd recovered from her shock, Faith asked, "how much of the writing _have_ you translated or identified?" Faith paused, then gave them a confused look. "Wait, the thing isn't exactly a broadsword, how much writing can there be to translate?"

McKay glowered at her. "Each ring of words around the hilt are a unique language and from what we could translate possess significantly different meanings. We were able to identify Ancient, Nox, and half a dozen ancient Earth languages that shouldn't have even existed at that time! What we _could_ translate means nothing; they're out of context because the words you're actually able to see is only a small portion of the overall inscription."

"What do you mean the words I was _able_ to see?" Faith asked, furrowing her brows.

"Aside from the words circling the pommel, all of the other words that form the rings and that run along the blade," Weir began, "are actually comprised of hundreds, if not thousands, of letters or words themselves. We found out when Rodney...appropriated your kris for testing."

Faith and Beckett leaned closer to look at the kris.

"You can't see it!" McKay exclaimed exasperated, "remember the whole microscopic letters part?"

"The only words that don't have that characteristic are the Ancient words that ring the base of the hilt and the single word stamped at the base of the blade. The latter is clearly an old human language, but not one we've been able to narrow down," Weir added.

McKay nodded. "All the others are just as Dr. Weir said, like word art, but the language here," McKay said, pointing at the base of the hilt, "is straightforward and simple to understand." He paused and looked at his audience with a sniff. "Relatively speaking of course."

Weir gave him an annoyed look.

McKay coughed and hurriedly restarted his explanation. "Doctor Corrigan translated the ring at the base into something approximating 'spirit-jailer', but other than _that_ ring, translation is impossible because _all_ of the other rings have an underlying meaning stemming from the print inside. Even under constant study, it'll be _years_ before we'll be able to identify the languages, narrow down an approximation of the words' meaning, and put it all into some sort of context that give us an accurate translation," McKay said, glaring at the kris he still held as if it were the bane of his existence.

"Spirit-jailer, huh?" Faith asked, gazing at the blade.

"Oh, of course, it's the name of the unbelievably old and physically metamorphosing knife she gets stuck on." McKay rolled his eyes. "How typical."

"How accurate do you think Corrigan's translation is?" Faith asked, eyes narrowed.

The others blinked.

"What do you mean?" Weir asked.

"I mean, could he have gotten the translation wrong?" Faith asked.

"Of course," McKay said, a little too enthusiastically, "as I said before, it's all a matter of context and we have precious little of it. I'd say it's quite easy to mistranslate something nebulous like 'spirit' incorrectly. It's always about context."

"Hey, Beckett. What happened to the insect thing?" Faith asked suddenly. There was a moment of baffled silence before Faith inwardly sighed. "I mean, have you learned anything from the pieces you've recovered?"

"Actually it's quite fascinating," Beckett said, his own study of the kris forgotten. "I'd say its feeding mechanism was disrupted by the blade in such a way as to drive the creature into shock. We might have been able to learn more about the insect's reaction to the knife, however Buffy was...quite expedient and thorough in her destruction of the creature. We used several of the samples we'd collected from you when you first came in and were able to determine that Miss Burkle's theory was correct; the insect fed on you the way the Wraith supposedly do. You'll be pleased to know that the limited degradation of your internal organs and cells began a rapid recovery the moment it was...removed."

Beckett turned to Weir. "I also believe, Dr. Weir, that if this happens again, and this bonnie knife here isn't available, that Miss Burkle was also right about tricking the bug into thinking that the victim is deceased as being a viable method to remove it."

Faith ignored them, still staring at the kris. "Hey, doc, you got any test animals we can hurt?" At their outraged looks, she huffed out a breath. "Not like that, just got myself a 'wee little idea'," she said.

"No, Faith, I have a very limited supply of animals available for in vivo testing and I'm not willing to let you hurt one for whatever mad reason you may have," Beckett informed her before narrowing his eyes. "And that is _not_ what I sound like."

McKay shrugged a shoulder and held out a hand, tilting it up and down. "Little bit."

"Why are you asking, Faith?" Weir asked.

"Spirit-jailer doesn't sound right," Faith said.

"Oh, we'll be sure to correct Corrigan because of your sure-footed reasoning," McKay snarked. "Tell us, does it sound more like 'sharp-pointy-thing'?"

Faith took the kris from McKay, ignoring his sarcastic comment and feeble protest, and studied it intently. "The Lord taketh, the Lord giveth away."

"I'm fairly certain it does _not_ say that," McKay said scathingly, "and you quoting the bible _incorrectly_ neither answers my question, nor does it give me any comfort."

"Seems to me that you're missing some pretty important things here, _Meredith,"_ Faith said, the idea in her head beginning to solidify. "This was made only a little after the Ancients first left Pegasus, fleeing the Wraith, right? And this knife here, oh so conveniently interrupts a Wraithlike feeding when even a gunshot didn't. This...this is something they made, or helped make, in case the Wraith ever showed up."

"If your theory, which is quite flimsy by the way, why only one?" Dr. Beckett asked. "Surely we would have seen more of these if the Wraith had still been a cause for concern in the Milky Way."

"How many Ancient weapons do you see us finding all willy-nilly?" Faith countered. "When they Ascended, they picked up their shit to make sure we didn't step in it. Even then, you think they made a lot of _swords_ and _knives_ and crap like this? Nuh-uh. This one was left behind on purpose," Faith said, her own conviction ringing in her voice.

"Why do you say that?" Dr. Weir asked, confused by Faith's bewildering confidence in her own words.

"The word on the base of the blade, the other thing that doesn't have the whacky word art? I recognize the language and I'm pretty sure I know what it says," Faith said, a slight smile lighting up her face. "Doubt it's a language anyone here besides Buffy might know. Cubiform is like that, not easy to read and they all kinda look alike."

"It's 'Cuneiform'," McKay corrected, "but please, continue to inspire our confidence in you."

Faith waved his sarcasm off with a dismissive hand. "This is Sumerian. Don't speak it, can't read it, but I can recognize a couple of words. Back when I was a teen in Boston, a professor at Harvard who studied mythology and history helped look after me for a while during my time in foster care. She was a good woman. A real class act, you know? She taught me a lot of things and like you said, McKay, it's about context." Faith pointed at the symbol. "This, you could say means hunter, or soldier, or assassin, even something more poetic like Slayer."

McKay groaned audibly and Weir gave her a pained look.

"A weapon to fight the Wraith, even a feeding Wraith, any drone or space gun could do, yeah? A knife like this has to have a more specific purpose for the Ancients to have bothered to create it. Spirit-jailer...no. Like you said, McKay, Spirit is pretty open to interpretation, but jailer... Maybe it's not a jailer, but a protector, or a holder, or a keeper, they can all have the same rough meaning, right? But see, I've been thinking—"

"I imagine that your brain must hurt, after neglecting it for so long. Cubiform," McKay blew a raspberry.

Faith gave him the finger. "Dr. Beckett, what is a Wraith doing when it feeds?"

"It feeds on your life energy," Beckett replied.

"Life energy," Faith repeated, "like essence, or vitality—"

"Or spirit, yes, we get the connection," McKay said impatiently, "what's your point?"

"A knife wouldn't be a jailer; it makes no sense in that context. The Ancients didn't just make some fancy knife with all the language crap just so it could carve off a slice of Wraith," Faith said, excited now.

"Charming image," Weir said dryly, "but, at the risk of repeating Rodney, what's the connection?"

"The knife changed when it killed the bug, right? But what if it wasn't about the kill itself? A jailer, holder, or keeper, right? What if it wasn't about killing the bug or Wraith, but about keeping the stolen 'spirit'? The Wraith _have_ to be close in order to feed, yeah? so what if this was a way for the Ancients to kill a feeding Wraith or heal their victims."

"That's a lot of very loose deductive reasoning and assumptions based on the fact that you disagree with an expert's translation, on the basis of it 'not sounding right'," Weir observed. "And there's no evidence that it has any kind of healing or restorative properties."

Faith stood up, brushing past McKay and searched the area until she found what she needed. She set the kris down and used the scalpel she'd found to make a shallow four inch-long cut above her tattoo on her left arm.

"What are you doing?!" Dr. Beckett cried out.

"Pipe down MacDougal, it's barely a scratch," Faith retorted.

Faith took up the kris, spent a second judging the state of her sanity, and carefully placed the very tip of the blade into the wound. She didn't actually feel the blade enter her arm, probably stemming from the fact that her left arm immediately went numb. She cursed and hastily withdrew the kris out, letting it fall to the floor with a loud clatter. Her arm felt cold, impossibly cold, and she stumbled back until her back hit the wall. She closed her eyes, breathing harshly.

She might have slid to the floor had two hands not grabbed her and kept her upright. Two small, feminine hands. _Fuck._

"You are so fucking stupid," B growled out, "and even stupider for doing this while I was in the room sleeping."

Faith winced, she _had_ forgotten B had been there.

"I can't say I disagree," Beckett chimed in.

"Cubiform," McKay said simply, arms crossed and wearing a smug expression.

A pair of small, feminine hands grabbed her and lifted her so that she sat on the nearest bed. Faith took a deep breath and opened her eyes, lifting her left arm for inspection. There was blood left over on the skin, but wiping it away revealed her healed and unmarked, albeit numb, shoulder.

"This is the part where I get to say I told you so, right?" Faith panted, displaying her healed arm to the others.

Weir examined the shoulder with wide eyes and turned as Beckett returned with the kris, restored to its former bonelike appearance.

"What?" McKay exclaimed, to nobody in particular. "What? No! It makes no sense for your half-assed logic to actually be correct. No!"

"God, you people are such doubters," Faith said, letting out a deep breath. "When were the Ancients ever poetic about naming their shit, huh? They called themselves the 'Ancients' for Christ's sake. And let's not forget about their calling the big circular gates used to 'travel the stars' through other big circular gates an Astria Porta which means...wait for it...Stargate."

Faith laughed, rubbing her shoulder. "I told you! 'The Lord taketh, the Lord giveth away'. Spirit-jailer, hah. A weapon the Ancients made on Earth in case the Wraith ever came looking for them; stops 'em feeding and heals their victims. To some extent anyway. You can tell Corrigan that this here kris, is not a 'spirit-jailer', no, I think 'essence-keeper' is more accurate."

Faith felt very smug until the small feminine hand that had lifted her onto the bed delivered a stinging slap to her face.

"You are so _fucking_ stupid," Buffy hissed, "why would you even test it on yourself? Beckett has lab rats."

"He wouldn't let me borrow one," Faith answered weakly, a hand held to her cheek.

"You are a moron and I'm still tired, so I'm going to bed. Don't join me," Buffy growled, and stalked out of the infirmary, letting out a stream of invective as she did so.

"Um, why would you join her?" McKay asked, looking confused.

Dr. Weir and Faith just looked at him until he went flushed a deep red. "Oh, come on, that's not fair!"

Beckett, on the other hand, wore an expression that was the very definition of woebegone. "You are a cruel woman to destroy a man's dreams so."

Faith snickered and stood up, still rubbing her arm to help remove the remaining numbness. Taking the kris from Beckett, Faith leaned up and kissed his cheek. She then winked at the stammering Scotsman, ignored McKay altogether, and sent a two fingered salute at Weir.

The head of the Atlantis expedition raised an imperious eyebrow, but glanced at Beckett, smiled, and waved Faith off.

* * *

 **January 9th, 2006**

"Really? A Lord of the Flies planet?" Buffy asked.

"Pretty much," Sheppard said, looking sheepish yet somehow satisfied by the time he'd concluded his tale.

"I do not understand," Teyla stated, looking at Buffy with a confused expression.

"It's a book from our world. Bunch of kids get trapped on an island without any adults and go a bit crazy," Sheppard answered her.

"I see. Then it is an apt comparison," Teyla agreed.

"Pretty surprised Sumner didn't argue with Weir about sending the ZPM back," Faith murmured.

"He's not that bad," Sheppard said. At the look on Buffy, Faith, McKay and Stackhouse's faces, he cringed. "Okay, he's not that bad _anymore_. Think getting captured and doing desk work was good for him?"

"I dare you to say that to his face," Sergeant Stackhouse said, pointing a figure at the other man. "But you're not wrong, Major. Colonel's always been a bit stiff, but he's one of the better COs I've ever had. He's...eased off since coming to Atlantis."

"Can't say I'm upset, though he doesn't mind taking potshots at me every time we're in the same room," the Air Force officer groused.

"It's his way of saying he cares," Buffy said sweetly.

Louis smirked at Buffy's comment, but asked the major, "you got a mission today?"

Sheppard nodded. "Checkin' out a new planet, you?"

Stackhouse eyed the two girls with a miserable expression. "CQC training with our new trainers. We'll be with AR-2 and a few of the scientists."

Sheppard winced. "Have fun with that."

Faith smiled. "Don't worry, we'll take it easy on you, Lou."

Louis sent a pleading look toward the Air Force major. "Every time they say that, they still manage to hurt me in a new and exciting way."

Sheppard smiled, "well at least you're getting better, right?"

"You're up next when you get back, Sheppard, don't get too smug," Buffy said, crossing her arms and glowering at the tall man.

John Sheppard stopped smiling.

* * *

 **January 19th, 2006**

"Hey you! Short, blonde, and gorgeous! Happy birthday! Wanna go on a date?"

Buffy looked over her shoulder to see her grinning lover, fully loaded out and looking more than ready to kick ass with her P90 angled downwards across her chest, kris strapped to her belt, and M9 holstered on the other side.

"I'd say your idea of a romantic birthday date seems to be quite different from mine," Carson Beckett observed with his typical Scottish lilt, maintaining his grip on the fishing pole even as he turned to examine the newcomer.

Buffy, after an embarrassing display of pleading, cajoling, and coercion on the part of the Scotsman, had been dragged by him to the West Pier for her first fishing lesson. He'd called it her birthday gift but she was reconsidering her estimation of whether the man was evil or not. Fishing was _so_ not her thing.

The blonde eyed Faith speculatively. "We've never talked about role play, but I can tell you that _that_ getup doesn't do much for me."

Beside her, Beckett nearly dropped his fishing rod. "Would you stop doing that! I've already figured out that you say those kinds of things just to embarrass me, you can stop anytime now."

"It's just so easy though" Buffy told him with a simpering voice as Faith snickered behind her. She turned back toward her lover. "What exactly are you proposing, Faith?"

"Wanna kill some Wraith?"

"Yes! Sounds fun, sorry Beckett, you'll have to find someone else to fish with you today. You should ask McKay; he needs more friends. Duty calls and all that," Buffy said cheerfully, waving her farewell.

"You could at least not sound so bloody happy about your 'date', it's quite disturbing," Beckett called after them.

#

"AR-3," Sumner addressed the four individuals in front of him in the conference room. "You'll be performing the first mission off-world that will put you in deliberate and direct contact with the Wraith since Sheppard's rescue operation. While Sheppard was on the Hoffan homeworld, we were given intelligence about a likely Wraith outpost on or around the planet designated as M4S-683. They were able to provide the coordinates from their last culling and we will use those coordinates, if possible, to acquire additional intelligence about the Wraith."

"I'm assuming we'll be sending AR-2 or some sort of probe out first ?" Louis asked. "I'd sure hate to walk into an ambush...or space for that matter."

"Your assumption would be correct," Sumner nodded. He gestured to Dr. Weir.

Dr. Weir sat forward. "As we all know, we have a limited amount of supplies on Atlantis. Those supplies been supplemented by our various trade agreements that we've made but most of our equipment and weapons are irreplaceable until such time as we are able to make contact with Earth once again. Several of our scientists have dedicated their time to finding ways to stretch what resources we do have, to introduce new technologies and resources we've acquired."

The others watched as she placed a small metallic ball roughly the size of a softball onto the table. "The fact is that while we'd love to send a M.A.L.P probe out with every team we send to an unknown planet, we simply cannot afford to lose the ones we have left. Dr. Grodin has been heading the project to find an adequate substitute," she said, indicating the ball. "This is a very simplistic probe that will provide enough data to determine if the area is immediately viable. Temperature, radiation, and breathable atmosphere detection, along with a fixed camera. Not much, but enough to know if you can step through and not be blown into space or into a firestorm."

"So, we send the shiny tennis ball through the Stargate and...?" Faith asked.

Sumner raised an eyebrow. "The 'shiny tennis ball' is scheduled to be thrown through the Gate in thirty minutes; AR-2 will follow once it's determined that it's safe to do so. Their mission is to conduct a preliminary survey, confirm the Wraith presence, and come straight back. If AR-2 is able to use a Puddle Jumper and stay cloaked, they should be able to be in and out within an hour. Unless AR-2 is discovered or Bates deems the Stargate's immediate surroundings as too exposed, then your mission will proceed. Dr. McKay has pointed out that it's possible they monitor the Stargate, so we're going to give them as little time as possible to react; you'll proceed immediately to M4S-683, by Jumper if possible. Your secondary goals are to acquire information about the planet and its inhabitants, whatever they might be. If there is a Wraith presence, you are to actively scout their positions and determine the size and capability of their force. Determine if there is a significance to their location and whether or not they maintain an active presence on the planet."

"Why wouldn't Bates be conducting this entire mission?" Buffy asked with a frown.

Sumner sent her a brief smile. "I said this would be the first mission to make deliberate and _direct_ contact, Miss Summers. As I've said, AR-3's secondary purpose is to collect detailed survey and reconnaissance information. Your primary mission objectives, however, are to acquire information directly from a Wraith computer system, to capture a Wraith and bring it back to Atlantis, and to do your best to leave no Wraith alive to report your presence or activity."

"Doctor Kavanagh will be briefing you, Sgt. Stackhouse, on the data extraction system you'll be using," Weir informed him. "Meet him at the auxiliary lab on the East Pier when we finish here."

"Ma'am," Stackhouse acknowledged with a nod.

"If it wasn't obvious before, because we're predicting this mission to involve a sustained engagement with the Wraith," Sumner began, "Miss Burkle will not be joining you on this mission."

Buffy and Faith gave each other identical conflicted looks; it would've been nice to have the Old One on a mission like this, but it would be pretty hard to explain.

"'Primary mission objectives'," Markham echoed. "Gotta say, when I first joined the Corps, I never thought that'd mean flying a spaceship belonging to humanity's ancestors in a different galaxy from the lost city of Atlantis to go fight space vampires."

A chorus of agreement and laughter met the man's observation.

"Get the rest of your gear and get to the Gate room as soon as possible," Sumner said solemnly. "AR-2 will be on standby in Atlantis if you need assistance, however be aware that they're serving as backup for AR-1 while they're making first contact with the Genii, as well. Sergeant, keep that in mind if you have the sudden urge to be loud in your entry."

#

"Send the probe through," Weir ordered.

The former diplomat and the gruff Marine colonel stood in the DHD room, watching as the probe was tossed lightly through the Stargate by one of Sumner's men. The Puddle Jumper hovered, waiting for Sumner to give the final order to execute their mission.

"Dr. Weir, we're receiving probe telemetry," Dr. Grodin reported.

Weir strolled up to the man, looking at the results the probe was relaying. "What are we seeing, Peter?"

Peter Grodin's fingers danced across the keyboard as he attempted to sort the raw data for a proper analysis. "Annoying problem about the probe, ma'am, is that all the automated programming that we take for granted in the M.A.L.P we have to do by hand for the probe we've developed." The man continued typing, more windows popping up with a more graphic and readable display of results. "Not space. Breathable atmosphere with no immediately evident danger. Temperature on the cool side. Gravity appears normal, based on how long it took for the probe to drop to the ground from the height we tossed it here."

"Pictures of the area?" Weir asked.

"Collating...here."

Sumner approached the pair and looked over the images. "Dark out, but it's definitely a flat area, large enough for a Puddle Jumper to maneuver through."

"Looks like some trees in the background, maybe a mountain in the distance," Weir added.

"AR-2, your mission is a go, good luck and godspeed," Sumner told them through his earpiece.

The Stargate blinked out of existence the moment the Jumper zoomed through, leaving the Gate room unexpectedly quiet. Weir turned to Faith and the rest of AR-3. "Sergeants, ladies, go ahead and load up in one of the Jumpers and be prepared to execute your mission. We'll keep you updated of any developments."

Stackhouse's eyes flicked to the colonel, who gave him a wry nod. "Ma'am," the sergeant replied, and the four left at a fast walk.

Weir turned to Sumner. "Marshall, I believe I might have stepped on your toes there. I apologize, you're their commanding officer, not me."

"I appreciate that, Elizabeth. Perhaps you did, but if something were to happen to me, it's important that they'll follow your orders as well. God forbid they have to follow Sheppard's orders."

Weir grinned. "He's not that bad, Marshall."

"Man makes the right decisions, but he also invites trouble on every mission," Sumner said, his mouth set in a line.

The diplomat huffed. "Teyla says the Genii are a peaceful agrarian society. You really think he could cause trouble with them?"

"If there's a way, yes," the Marine replied instantly.

#

The four members of AR-3 that were waiting on the Puddle Jumper all stiffened when their earpieces crackled to life.

"AR-3, your Jumper may deploy to the Gate room. Your mission is a go."

Faith squeezed Buffy's knee when the unknown technician's words echoed in their ears.

The two Slayers felt the shift of the Jumper as Markham and Stackhouse brought the Ancient ship down into the Gate room.

"You ready?" Buffy asked, anxiously looking over her gear.

"Fuck yeah," Faith said with a grin, hoping her confidence would bolster the blonde. "Come on, B, we just did this shit last month."

Buffy breathed out and nodded. "Wasn't expecting a gift quite like this, Faith," the blonde said dryly.

"Don't worry, B, your real gift is waiting for you when we get back to Atlantis."

The suggestive purr in her voice left Buffy with no doubt as to the nature of what that gift might be. Buffy blushed, but looked a little readier for what lay ahead.

"Alright AR-3. Good luck and kick ass. Ooh Rah," Sumner's voice echoed through their headsets once more.

#

Sumner and Weir stood side by side as the Puddle Jumper sped through the Stargate.

"You sure this is the right thing to do?" Dr. Weir asked quietly. "We haven't taken a risk like this before."

"Being determined to do the right thing at the expense of a wiser tactical decision is an excuse to exercise your own mental frailty and personal weaknesses. Learning about these Wraith, to measure their strengths and weaknesses in the field of battle, these will hold value in the future for tactical decisions, not _right_ ones. The Wraith have terrorized, culled, and fed upon the humans for many millennia. Now, the Slayers will begin culling the Wraith and the leaches will be given their own monsters to fear."

Both Col. Sumner and Dr. Weir nearly jumped out of their skin when the cold, flat voice of Illyria came from behind them in a harsh whisper. There was no indication that anyone but her intended audience had heard, both of whom just stared at her.

"I'm assuming you're speaking of Faith and Miss Summers?" Col. Sumner asked.

The Old One nodded, still speaking softly, her voice utterly at odds with her sweet and happy appearance. "On our world, the Slayers are the monsters to _your_ monsters. In this galaxy, it will be no different."

* * *

 **January 19th, 2006  
** _M4S-683_

"What is that?" Faith asked, looking through her night vision binoculars at the large structure that was clearly the hub of Wraith activity that Bates had reported. The Wraith Darts that occasionally zipped by supported that claim though no Wraith had been seen on the ground yet.

"I'm not sure," Louis murmured. "Night vision is great and all, but the fucking things don't really give you the best picture."

"Well we're supposed to sit tight and observe for a short time, anyway," Buffy pointed out. "We can at least use this time to set up a couple observation poles—"

"Posts," Louis, Markham, and Faith corrected automatically.

"See? You agree with me," Buffy beamed. "Use the remaining night and tomorrow's daylight to observe, meetup at the Jumper to get have a group chat and then kill 'em all tomorrow night."

Markham startled at Buffy's bluntness and glanced at Sgt. Stackhouse.

"You get used to it," Louis said sympathetically.

"God, I feel like it's been forever since I've killed something," Faith murmured quietly.

"Mostly," Louis muttered, appending his statement.

#

"So."

"So?" Buffy asked, continuing to peer through her binoculars.

"You and Faith?"

Buffy narrowed her eyes and looked away to stare at the man. "Got a problem with that?"

Louis shrugged. "Can't say I get it, but I don't think any less of either one of you for it. Plus, I know for a fact that both of you could kick my ass."

Buffy grinned. "There is that. How'd you know?"

Louis gave her a look of utter disbelief. "You expected McKay to keep a secret like _that_?"

"I'm going to hurt that man," Buffy growled.

"Well, that and you two were seen making out with an impressive display of enthusiasm in the _mess_ last week," Louis added smugly.

"Crap," Buffy swore. "Stupid Faith and her fucking stupid streak. Who saw?"

Stackhouse chuckled. "AR-1 and Col. Sumner."

"Oh fuck."

"It wasn't that bad," the Marine said with a conciliatory tone. "Apparently, Teyla already knew and Sheppard looked like he'd already figured it out, according to Dr. Corrigan."

Buffy nodded. "Not surprised, Teyla and Faith became fast friends. Teyla likes fighting people she can't instakill and Faith likes having a woman around who is just as blunt as she. Not surprised about Sheppard either. Um...how'd Sumner take it?"

In the dark, Buffy watched Louis scratch his head for a moment before shrugging. "Um, Corrigan said he got quiet, shook his head, and told them to find another place to play poker for the night."

"Anyone take it badly?"

"Not the way you're thinking. Couple of assholes, even by Marine standards, want to bed the both of you and 'turn you straight'."

"Wow."

Stackhouse nodded and looked back through his binoculars. "I don't think it's a building, Buffy, and I think I know why the Wraith are still here."

"What do you mean?" the blonde asked, squinting.

"That's a ship, not a Hive ship, but definitely a ship. Looks like it crashed and I'm willing to bet the Wraith have been using it as a base of operations when they cull off-world," Stackhouse said.

"I see it now, too," she murmured. "There's probably gonna be a lot of bad guys in there."

"And maybe some people in line to be fed on," he replied. "We're going to have to be fast and quiet if we're actually contemplating an assault on that ship. We were planning on a small base, not a ship like that."

Buffy nodded. "If there're a lot of people being held captive, we'll only be able to fit a few into the Jumper if we free them."

"We'll figure it out, but for now we keep watching. We need to get as accurate of a count of their numbers as possible, see if there are any visible entrances, and patterns to ground patrols and Dart sweeps."

"Got it, Lou," Buffy murmured and got settled in for a long night.

#

"You see it?" Louis asked.

"It's a ship," Faith confirmed with a nod. "Smaller than the one we rescued Sumner from."

Louis nodded. "If it's the same general shape as the Hive ship, then about a third of that ship is buried. Make it less than a kilometer in total length.

"Which would be of the good," Buffy added. "Less area to cover and fewer Wraith lurking about."

"We _think_ we counted a total of 20 individual Wraith but it's hard to tell with those big soldiers of theirs, but we did see at least six of the unmasked type," Faith said.

Buffy frowned. "Didn't see any unmasked Wraith, but there were patrols of five Wraith soldiers every 15 minutes on our side. Make it at least 20 of them if they never take a break."

"Meaning at least 50 Wraith, not even counting any inside," Markham said, crossing his arms. "Even with a smaller ship and crew, those aren't good odds."

"Never tell me the odds," Faith ordered sternly.

"Only saw two Wraith Darts. They landed on the ground every few hours to swap out pilots before going back out. 30 minutes between their patrols over this area," Stackhouse pointed out. "If I guessed correctly about how much of their ship is buried, it might be the reason they land on the ground and why we've only seen two: their hanger could be obstructed or damaged."

Faith nodded. "If we're gonna catch us a leach, we gotta go for one of the unmasked fellas. I never saw any on an actual patrol, but I _did_ see them go to the ground level and disappear into a gap between the ship's buried section and the top of the rise the ship crashed through."

"Think they're going there to feed on captured humans?" Buffy guessed.

Louis nodded slowly. "That ship is pretty messed up and I could see a lot of tears and breaks in the hull, so it's possible they had to make use of the surrounding area to keep captives like they've been using for the Darts. If that's the case, it would also be the simplest method of capturing one of the Wraith."

"So why go in the ship at all?" Buffy asked.

"Intelligence," Stackhouse reminded her. "Wraith technology isn't as advanced as the Ancients' but there are a few areas that they operate on similar principles, according to Rodney McNerd anyway. With the information that AR-2 has collected on the last few missions, Kavanagh and Zelenka are confident they've developed a device and method for data extraction if we can find a computer interface inside."

"Go in, kill Wraith, hack an alien computer like it's Independence Day, capture Wraith, and free humans on the way out," Buffy repeated. "Got it. Easy peasy."

"At least the ship's internal lighting looks fine," Faith stated. "Might have to use night vision on the way in, but once we're in the ship we should be fine. If we time it right, sun will be rising and we can be as noisy as we want."

Louis shook his head at her before looking them each in the eye. "We have four problems to consider, however. One is that we simply don't have enough people here for a sustained fight; we should try to get the intel _first_ and do everything else on the way out like you said, Buffy. Two, is that we'll need someone with the Jumper from the start because it's a damned certainty that we'll need a quick evac. That means only three of us are going into the ship in the first place, hence point number one."

"Guessin' that'll be me," Markham frowned. "I've seen each of you at the range and in the gym; I know I'm good but all of you are better shots. However, I _am_ the best pilot here; I'll man the Jumper and keep it cloaked. Just radio in when you need the Darts to disappear or if you need an evac and I'll be there with bells on."

Stackhouse nodded at the other Marine. "Three is that one of our mission objectives is to _capture_ a Wraith. Someone will have to _carry_ the Wraith back to the Jumper. That means our three gunhands become two on our way out."

"What's the fourth problem?" Buffy asked.

"The fourth problem is a bit of a two-parter; however, it may not even apply or apply as much if we're dealing with a ship so much smaller than the other one. Fred said there were hundreds, thousands, of dormant Wraith on the Hive ship; those sleeping Wraith woke up the moment the Keeper died so _if_ we do encounter someone like that, try to incapacitate instead of kill. Fred suggested the Keeper, which was the only female Wraith she encountered, has the same Jedi mind tricks that the other Wraith do, but almost certainly stronger. Meaning if you get captured, she might be able to do more than just make you jump at shadows, so do _not_ captured. As I said, with a smaller, crashed ship there may not even be a Keeper or some equivalent but we simply don't know enough about them to do anything more than guess," Louis explained. "Faith, you got the life signs detector?"

"Tricorder, check," the brunette Slayer said with a thumbs up. "Even with your four problems of doom, Lou, smaller ship means smaller crew and easier to find a hard drive or whatever, like B said. We can do this."

Markham nodded. "Keep in mind we were only expecting a small outpost; you better come back with some solid intelligence or Col. Sumner will be pissed at us for actually trying to execute this plan."

"You mean the plan where we'll be charging into an alien ship with an unknown number of highly advanced space vampires onboard when we _already_ know we'll be outnumbered more than ten to one? Or that they have two airborne vehicles to our one?" Faith asked with a raised eyebrow. "No biggie, we'll make like the Spanish Inquisition." Faith nudged him with a smile.

"What?" Markham asked, confused.

"Didn't you know? _No one_ expects the Spanish Inquisition, Sergeant," Faith said, with a feral grin.

Stackhouse rolled his eyes. "Grab what you need, we're going in asap. Make sure to bring a few blocks of C-4, flashbangs, and a helluva lot of ammunition. Buffy, you mentioned you've used a shoulder-mounted missile launcher or RPG before? Grab one of the AT-4s from the Jumper, too. Bates apparently managed to shoot down one of their Darts with one, might make a great door opener, too."

"I thought you were a civvie," Markham asked with a puzzled expression. "When did you ever use an RPG?"

"High school was hell," Buffy answered blandly.

#

Faith breathed out in a steady, even rhythm as she and her two companions made the two klick journey from Markham and their Jumper all the way to the east side of the ship, apparently without being detected. With the amount of damage to the hull, it wasn't long until they found a small tear to use as their doorway, one that appeared to be rarely patrolled and that led to an actual corridor.

"Didn't bring your swords?" Louis asked quietly, looking almost disappointed.

Faith flipped out the expendable sword and collapsed it, much to the Marine's obvious delight. "That, my trusty kris, and all of the shiny and destructive instruments of death that Uncle Sam has provided should do."

Buffy tapped a hammer at her side. "Likewise."

"You brought a...hammer?" Louis asked, his feelings on the matter pasted on his face.

"Just you wait, Stackhouse, just you wait," the blonde replied with a grin. "Now let's stop with the stalling and play some whack-a-Wraith."

Faith looked down at the scanner. "Two of them just passed about 20 feet ahead of us through the corridor we're getting ready to bisect. We need to use hand signals or be vewy vewy quiet. If we come across any, try to knock them out or take 'em by blade."

Stackhouse flashed a smile. "Did you ever come across any computer or electronic terminals when you went in to rescue the colonel?" he whispered.

Faith glanced at Buffy, they both shook their head.

Louis blew out a breath and adjusted his grip on his M249. "Then we go in deeper and find any open terminals of any kind and try to interface with it." Stackhouse opened a vest pocket to pull out a small rectangular object that had about the same dimensions as a credit card but was at least an inch thick. "This should crack any open port and download the data into the memory. Kavanagh said it shouldn't take long, but you'll have to cover me when I start the process."

The two girls confirmed with a thumbs up.

"Faith, lead the way," he ordered quietly.

Faith glanced at the 'tricorder' again and began moving forward. She let the P90 fall across her chest and drew the kris from her belt, but her attention remained focused onto the device's display. Stackhouse was behind her while Buffy watched their back.

They'd made it about 100 feet into the ship before Faith sidled into an out of the way alcove and beckoned the others to join her.

"We've dodged about seven Wraith now, but I haven't seen any consoles or Wraith who were stationary for long enough on the scanner to be using one. We need to put up some kind of discrete markers up to use as breadcrumbs if we're going to go any deeper," Faith murmured almost inaudibly.

Louis removed a roll of red tape from his vest and pointed at the corridor they'd been using. At the junction between the ceiling and the wall was a small piece of red tape. Buffy nodded and gave them a thumbs up in acknowledgment. Looking down at her scanner, she spun her finger around in a circle and then pointed back to the corridor, leading the party back to its course further into the bowels of the Wraith vessel.

Perhaps ten minutes later of slow but steady progress, Faith held up a fist and pressed herself against the wall in a crouch. Louis made his way up to her until he was looking just over her shoulder.

"What's up?" he breathed into her ear.

"Big open space ahead of us, ten life signs inside, all but two stationary." Faith shifted the display for Stackhouse and Buffy's inspection.

Buffy and Louis studied the life signs detector intently. According to the scan, they were about to enter a large circular space. Three dots were forming a sort of triangle in the middle of the room while the other five unmoving life signs were stationed at irregular intervals along the wall. One moving dot was circling the three in the middle, occasionally pausing before continuing to the next dot. The other moving sign was doing the same for the five on the outside.

"Captives maybe, but possibly Wraith working the consoles with their...supervisors? watching over them," Stackhouse suggested.

"Only one way to find out and it'll likely require getting all noisy. Otherwise we need to move in a different direction and keep searching, but that'll make it more difficult to get out quickly," Buffy hissed.

"Looks like there are two ways into the room," Faith said quietly, "the one in front of us and another about 15 feet to the right. As long as they can't pop up through the floor or drop down through the ceiling, we can hold here for a while."

"Yeah, but being able to hold off for a while means diddly if we're penned in here," Stackhouse pointed out.

"That's why we have our door openers," Buffy said, indicating the C-4, her AT-4, and tapping her hammer.

Stackhouse eyed her. "This is going to be weird, isn't it? Weird like the way you guys and Burkle can be sometimes?"

Buffy and Faith glanced at one another and nodded at the brown-haired Marine.

"Shit," he cursed quietly. "If they're Wraith, I'm betting at least a few of them aren't the big soldiers, but we can't carry one of the unmasked guys all the way out of the ship, so we kill any of the Wraith inside and hope we find another to capture on the way out."

"Once they're down, give them a pop or two in the head as well. Fuckers don't like to stay down and you don't want them to get their grubby mitts on you," Faith added. She slid the kris carefully back into its sheath and took the safety off her P90. "Ready?"

Stackhouse hefted the M249, made sure the bipod was folded and clocked open the bolt. He gave her a determined nod while Buffy gave her a slight smile as she raised her own P90. Faith waved a hand at herself and indicated the right and then indicated to Stackhouse to take the left. Pointing a finger at Buffy, she indicated for the blonde to cover them and take out any Wraith still standing.

Faith turned to face the room and held her hand up with all five fingers extended.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

#

Stackhouse watched as Faith flowed from her crouch until she was upright with her knees bent to minimize her silhouette. He was still in the process of doing the same when she seemed to practically fly into the area they were about to assault. The sound of a P90 firing in a burst echoed a bare second later. He winced at the explosive sound in the otherwise silent hallway but hustled to follow his teammate in, making it into the chamber just as the second burst reached his ears.

Turning the corner, he unloaded a hail of bullets into the unmasked Wraith that was only now reacting to Faith's gunfire. The hail of bullets from the light machine gun shredded the Wraith's chest and sent the Wraith flying back into the bulkhead. Stackhouse put another few rounds into the Wraith's head until he turned to his next target.

Close to him, he saw Buffy shooting towards the center of the room, reducing the head of an unmasked Wraith scrambling from a console into an unrecognizable red mass. She did the same to another Wraith who'd been at the center consoles and then had to duck several stun blasts when a Wraith soldier charged into the chamber from the right entrance.

The Wraith soldier would have continued his charge but the angle of his entrance meant he had been blind to Faith's presence. A fatal mistake, it turned out, as Faith's sword bisected the Wraith in half before removing the head from the separated torso in mid-air.

Stackhouse turned his attention back to the left side and depressed the trigger to let the SAW's rounds rip into an unmasked Wraith who had withdrawn a small pistol shaped device from his belt and was aiming it directly at him. The Wraith jerked repeatedly from the bullet impacts before falling to his knees and collapsing onto the floor. A quick burst from Buffy obliterated its skull.

Faith danced away from a blast sent by another unmasked Wraith armed with a sidearm, collapsed her sword, and riddled the face and throat of the Wraith with several small bursts from her P90.

In the center of the chamber, Buffy dashed around the console, trying to get the Wraith who had been using it for cover. The Wraith snarled and backhanded her. Or rather, it tried to and failed because Buffy caught the swing and performed a high kick that created a new elbow out of the Wraith's arm. The Wraith snarled in pain but slapped Buffy's P90 down with its good hand.

Stackhouse watched as Buffy, visibly annoyed, plucked the hammer from her belt and brought it between the Wraith's legs. After hearing about the Wraith, what they'd done to the Lanteans and seeing what they'd done to the Athosians, he never expected to feel sympathy for one. At that moment, Stackhouse felt genuine sympathy for the creature as a series of snapping and crunching sounds echoed in the chamber after the hammer's impact.

He watched as if it were in slow motion as the Wraith suddenly wore a strange expression on its face as it was lifted bodily into the air from the force of whatever the fuck that hammer was. He cringed as the red ruin of the Wraith's waist, upper thighs, and lower stomach became visible.

In his fascination, Stackhouse was nearly shot by another Wraith sidearm but a quick crouch cleared him from the Wraith's blast. He braced himself and pulled the trigger for an extended burst, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as the Wraith was torn apart by the bullets tearing through its body.

The Wraith that Buffy had made a eunuch out of slammed against a wall before sliding into a heap on the ground. Faith pulled her M9 out in a flash and unceremoniously shot it straight in the forehead.

The remaining Wraith, an unmasked one, looked genuinely scared of the three of them and Louis suddenly remembered the Athosian girl, Aleta, calling him a "Wraith hunter." _Yes,_ he thought almost savagely, _that is_ exactly _what we are._

He watched as Buffy's seemingly normal household hammer was thrown at the Wraith. The Wraith merely sneered reached out to catch it and then howled in agony as his arm shattered apart. The hammer's course didn't waver and it slammed into the Wraith's chest with a crunch. The Wraith was flung back against the wall, pinned inches above the ground by the hammer that had created a crater out of its chest. The hammer had embedded itself through his body and into the wall, creating visible cracks in the surrounding structure.

"I want one of those," he said, directing a hopeful glance towards the blonde.

"Kill a God and get your own," Buffy replied absentmindedly as she admired her handiwork. She then went up to the Wraith mural that had been painted across the wall and withdrew the deceptively powerful hammer with a grunt and put it back into her belt. The Wraith, however, remained aloft as blood and other fluids slowly dripped from his remains.

Louis decided not to ask about the hammer and glanced around the room with its many flashing lights and gizmos. "Looks like we hit the jackpot. Can you confirm the entrances to this room?"

"Just the way we came and this one," Faith nodded towards the corridor the charging Wraith had come out of.

Louis took out the device he'd been given. "Check the bodies, make sure they're nice and dead. Then cover the entrances while I start the data extraction, there's no way they missed that."

Faith walked around quickly, putting a bullet into each Wraith's head with her M9 before putting in a new clip and holstering her sidearm. She shouldered her P90 and stood next to the entrance they'd come through. Faith pulled the life signs detector and studied it. "Six Wraith on their way to you, B. Four to me. 30 feet."

Buffy trotted to him, took the M249 from him and gave him her P90 before she crouched next to the doorway they hadn't come through. She looked intently at the weapon for a bit and sent a questioning look his way. "Ammo?"

"Probably got 100 rounds left," Stackhouse replied, then reached for a spare ammo box at his waist and gently tossed it to her.

Buffy caught it and sent a quick wink in his direction before she peeked around the corner. Apparently seeing nothing, Buffy deployed the bipod and went prone.

Louis shook his head in bemusement; he was sure glad he wasn't any Wraith that had to face _his_ teammates.

He approached the console that was least visible to the two entrance ways and placed the device he'd been given on top of the unfamiliar computer that belonged to the Wraith. The display in front of him seemed to freeze for half a dozen seconds before recovering. On the device, a small green light began blinking that indicated data was being downloaded into the memory. A blue light would mean there was no more data to extract while a red light would indicate that the memory was full. He sighed in relief, apparently Kavanagh hadn't just been all talk and bluster.

Across the room from him, he heard the familiar staccato of a discharging M249 SAW and watched as Buffy began to fire in a long sustained burst. He winced at the waste of ammunition and the heat generating in the barrel, but she apparently managed to remember that particular disadvantage of using machine guns because she began using short bursts only a few seconds later.

Then the sound of a second firearm discharging echoed in the chamber as Faith's P90 began to spit out rounds as well.

#

Buffy cursed and rolled away from the doorway as a series of stun blasts impacted against the floor she'd just occupied. Getting to her feet, she tried to look around the corner only to jerk back as another stun blast splashed inches away. She growled in annoyance and considered charging them with her hammer before she paused and blinked. She held the M249 with one hand while she took a grenade off her belt, pulled the pin with her teeth, and began silently counting. She then stepped back several paces before tossing the grenade into the corridor at a slight angle to ricochet off the wall and toward the advancing Wraith party.

She ducked back around the wall and smiled when there was a guttural shout followed by the sound of an M67 standard issue grenade exploding. She spun around and began firing with the SAW at the two Wraith that hadn't been knocked down in the blast. She then fired a quick burst at the other wounded or dying Wraith, stopping only when she heard the clicking sound indicating she was out of ammo.

She smirked at the corridor now filled with dead Wraith. "I just knew that when we met I'd blow you all away."

Buffy ducked back into the room and looked intently at the gun for a moment. "Can someone reload this for me?"

"Fuck, seriously B?" Her exclamation cut off with another volley from the brunette's P90.

"I didn't spend as much time with this stuff as you! Pointing and killing is easy, but fuck the SATs were easier to figure out than reloading this," Buffy defended herself. She glanced away and took out her pistol and nailed a Wraith that was peeking around the curve of the hallway between the eyes.

She ran over to Louis, deposited the M249 onto the floor and took her P90 back.

"How's it coming, Lou?" she shouted as she assumed her former position.

"How the hell should I know? I just wait for the lights to change color!" the Marine yelled back.

There was a loud shout and a flurry of stun blasts shot down Faith's entrance, forcing the brunette to keep her head back.

"Fuckers want to get in close," the brunette Slayer called out in warning.

"Good, I'm bored. Also, it just occurred to me I should take this missile launcher off my back, just thought you should know," the blonde said primly.

Faith leaned closer to the lip of her doorway. "Hey fucknuts! I bet my blade is bigger than your blade!"

"You want to taunt them with penis envy?" Buffy asked incredulously, stepping away as stun blasts poured through the door.

"Technically, it's blade envy. Besides, I heard your little 'blow you away' comment, so you don't get to talk."

Buffy pouted, still hugging the wall but stepping several paces away from the entrance. She extended her hand and shot the Wraith that walked through that entrance in the side of the head with her pistol. Taking her P90 up, she stepped forward and peered around the corner again, managing to shoot one of Wraith soldiers in its unprotected throat before having to duck back.

"There's something wrong with both of you," Stackhouse said. "Light's blue, moving to one of the terminals on the outer wall."

Faith ducked and darted away as a bayonet made a wide sweep along the edges of the entrance way. Dropping her P90, she extended her sword as the Wraith soldier emerged into the room and thrust his bayonet at her. She batted away the first thrust and placed the Wraith in the path of an incoming stun blast that came from behind him. To her surprise, there was absolutely no effect and the soldier didn't so much as flinch. A hand reached out to grab her throat even as he began to thrust the bayonet toward her gut.

Faith grabbed his descending hand by the wrist and kicked the rifle to the side. She brought her face closer to its own masked visage.

"Listen up, leach. I don't know if you can hear me or if any of your fugly friends can hear me through you, but I just thought I'd give you all a heads up. You think you're the top dogs here?" Faith broke the wrist of the Wraith as it tried to stab her through the side again. Glancing over its shoulder, she saw one of the unmasked Wraith staring at her with an almost disconcerting intensity. Almost.

"So, you can hear me then?" she breathed.

The unmasked Wraith just stared at her and gave a minute nod.

Faith realized then that all of the gunfire had stopped, the only sounds being that of the groaning Wraith in front of her and the last echoes of their firefight. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Buffy glance down her entrance way and give her a thumbs up. Louis was crouched down by the center consoles and a flashing green light on the wall terminal behind him. She returned her focus to the Wraith in front of her, and the unmasked Wraith beyond.

"Good," she purred. "I've seen a lot of terrifying things in my life, Mister Wraith, and you are _nothing_ compared to them. Like I said to this ugly piece of crap, you're not top of the food chain anymore. You want to know what you are? You're _practice_."

"What then, are you?" the Wraith asked neutrally.

Faith blinked. It was the first time she'd heard a Wraith speak and she wasn't sure what she'd expected. The Wraith didn't sound upset or angry like she might've expected, instead he sounded curious with a little disdain mixed in. It was obvious that the race was advanced, but it was easy to forget that when dealing with the faceless horde of fugly warriors they kept around.

"You are predators. Monsters to the humans of this galaxy, yes?" Faith asked.

The Wraith nodded.

"You're the terrifying creatures that lurk in the dark, that wait to steal them away if they travel too far from their villages."

The Wraith smiled for a moment. "Yes."

Faith made a show of shaking her head in something akin to disappointment, using the motion to check the data extractor. It was flashing red. She made eye contact with Louis and said in a level voice, "it's done."

Turning back around, she met the Wraith's eyes. "It's done."

The Wraith frowned. "What is done?"

"Your time as something to be feared. Your time to be the faceless monster that every human in this galaxy dreads. See, there are some creatures from where we're from and they're a lot like you. Not as powerful or advanced, but evil in a way you'll never be. We call them vampires, soulless creatures that drink the blood of humans to live. Not entirely dissimilar?"

The Wraith narrowed its eyes but said nothing.

"Like you, they're essentially immortal, stronger, faster, more durable than any human. Ask me why they don't farm their humans like you do. Ask me what hunts _them._ "

The Wraith said nothing, just studied her.

Faith wrapped her free arm around the Wraith soldier's neck and gave it a quick jerk. The crack produced by its snapped neck echoed through the chamber. In a louder and harsher voice, she called out in a mocking tone to the unmasked Wraith and the two soldiers at his side, "alright you space vamp fucks, I'd say it's time to meet your Slayer."

She turned sideways to avoid the first stun blasts aimed her way then performed a front flip to close the short distance between her and the Wraith at the entrance. Landing directly in front of the unmasked Wraith, she leaned to the right to dodge a stun blast from one of the soldiers, and kicked out a leg to shatter the knee belonging to the other.

She rolled away to avoid a bayonet thrust and received a backhand from the leader as she got back to her feet.

Faith stepped back from the force of the blow and narrowed her eyes at him. "That's your one freebie. You're lucky you hit like a girl."

The Wraith threw a quick punch to her face, advancing to make room for the soldier still standing behind him. She grabbed his clenched fist and yanked it, and its owner, to her. Her elbow met the face of the incoming, unmasked, and very surprised Wraith, leaving him to drop bonelessly onto the floor without another word. A roundhouse kick disarmed the standing Wraith and a quick decapitation for both him and the kneeling soldier with the shattered knee left the unconscious, unmasked Wraith as the only living Wraith in the chamber.

A short distance away, Faith saw Buffy crouching, shooting down her passageway with her P90. Since she'd last checked in on her lover, a Wraith soldier had crumpled onto the floor in front of her, its head looking more like a smashed watermelon. She took the time to glance at Louis and saw that he'd finished reloading and was heading her way. She glanced down at the unconscious Wraith at her feet and chewed her lip.

"Here, you probably shouldn't drop these so often," Stackhouse said from beside her.

She gave him an embarrassed look as she collapsed her sword and accepted her P90 back. Faith took out the life signs detector and studied it. "How many Wraith did we kill?"

"At least 30," Buffy guessed. "I had a lot of action in my corridor."

"I know a thing or two about getting a lot of action," Faith replied slyly.

Stackhouse groaned. "Oh god, wait till we're not standing in pools of blood."

Buffy nudged the Wraith at their feet. "Wanna take this one?"

"Yeah, but we were pretty set on not doing that. All things considered, given that we're probably near the center of the ship, we should've seen a lot more Wraith than we did. Maybe the crash really did kill a bunch of them," Faith suggested.

"Can't rely on it and we still know there are at least 20 or so Wraith left, plus the Darts. If you really want to bring him, you'll have to tie his hands up nice and tight; all he needs to do is get a hand on you to start feeding," Stackhouse said.

"Oh, I got this!" Buffy said with an excited voice. She stepped over the Wraith and lifted one of its legs and then jerked the knee out of its socket. The blonde repeated the process with the other knee and then both arms. At the very least, that'll slow it down," she said confidently. She began by tying rope around its ankles before pulling its hands behind its back to place them in plasticuffs. An additional layer of rope around the hands were added for good measure. She then looped a new cord around the bound ankles and dragged the corpse to demonstrate.

"I'm...pretty turned on," Faith said, matter-of-factly. "You know Spike said you were good with knots and—"

"Be quiet if you want to live," Buffy warned her with a raised finger.

"You're both terrifying; this is the second time I've actually felt bad for the Wraith tonight," Louis said, shuddering.

"Was Buffy's prowess with that hammer so impressive that you felt... _unmanned_?" Faith asked, nudging him.

Buffy snickered.

Louis glowered at them.

"Alright, let's do it, and kick the Wraith in the head every now and then to keep it unconscious. Even hurt and bound, having him loose or struggling would be of the bad," Faith ordered Buffy. "So, we killed a shitton of Wraith, captured one, got the intel. Now we need to shoot our way out and get the fuck out of dodge," Faith recited, enumerating their objectives.

"And find captured humans and free them if possible," Buffy reminded her.

Stackhouse nodded. "Sounds about right. I'm not going to break radio contact until we're out of the ship and I don't intend to call in AR-2 unless things go downhill, but let's not get careless. We still have to finish the job, got it?"

The girls nodded.

"B, drag the leach and watch our back. Stackhouse, don't get shot, but especially don't let your pocket holding the thingy get shot." Faith glanced down, "I see Wraith closing in on us from our front, not so much on our six, stay a pace or two behind me so I can move if I have to."

"Let's do it," Louis said. "Noise doesn't matter at this point. Got the AT-4, Buffy?"

"Oh yeah. I really, really, want to use a missile launcher again."

"Alright, move out."

Faith began a brisk walk, not bothering to stay quiet and quickly covered the distance between the entrance and their current position. They'd occasionally run into a small group of Wraith, but Faith and Stackhouse were able to take each one down with minimal difficulty as Buffy dragged the limp Wraith behind her. According to the scanner, there were a small group of Wraith behind them, but they moved slowly, evidently cautious after seeing the room filled with their dead. But in front of her were nine dots, Wraith preparing some sort of ambush or barricade. Suffice it to say, neither one of the possibilities appealed to her in the least.

Glancing back at the scanner, she jammed it into a pocket and darted ahead, snapping her body to the right to face the waiting Wraith. Her bullets ripped into his gut but his heavy bulk took the punishment, leaving the Wraith still standing. Faith let the P90 fall to dangle at her hip from its strap and slapped his stunner away. She then unsheathed her kris and impaled the Wraith through the throat.

She and her two companions watched as the Wraith began to moan with a harsh, guttural sound of pain. Its arms and legs began to twitch and jerk violently as it fell to its knees with harsh grunts and gasps. It soon became obvious that it wasn't the throat wound that was killing it because the Wraith was shriveling up, wasting away right in front of them. Over the next five or ten seconds, its moans and mewls of pain became weaker and weaker until it was silent. As she withdrew her kris, the dried up husk disintegrated into a pile of dust.

"So..." Buffy said, looking at the now silver and gold kris, "that was interesting."

Louis looked at the dust, then at the kris, then at Faith, and nodded his agreement.

"Nine Wraith ahead about 45 feet away, four behind at...maybe 60 feet," Faith said.

"Plant C-4 in the hallway, Buffy," Louis ordered, "and you tell her when to blow it, Faith. We don't want them sneaking up on us."

Buffy began her task as Faith studied the display. "This is going to suck," she said to the sergeant.

"30 of the last 45 feet between us and the nine Wraith is a straight shot down a hallway. No cover and too much distance to cross without getting a faceful of Wraith stunners," Faith reported gravely.

Stackhouse frowned for a long moment before his eyes lit up and he turned around to face the blonde who was busily planting the leads onto a block of C-4 she'd attached to the ceiling. "Hey Buffy, ready to use that big tube on your back?"

Buffy smiled.

Faith studied the life signs detector. "B, I can't tell if they have a barricade or if they're just standing still ready to blast us away. Get the detonator out when the action starts because those Wraith behind us are gonna hustle up when they hear the noise."

Buffy nodded and turned to deliver a kick to the captured Wraith's head. The Wraith didn't respond to the physical blow beyond the initial jerk from the impact.

"Dump the leach while you fire ze missile," Faith suggested. "We'll come back for him after the Wraith in front are dead. After we clear this corridor and their position, we only have about 40 feet until we're out of the ship."

They advanced quickly until they reached the designated junction and readied themselves for the coming firefight. Buffy let go of the Wraith she'd been dragging and unslung the rocket launcher. Faith slipped behind her and kicked the Wraith in the head again and then again with more force to its dislocated right shoulder for good measure.

Faith turned back and joined Louis, crouching several feet away to put some distance between them and Buffy's impending AT-4 discharge. The AT-4's backblast might be fairly insignificant, but neither cared to receive the immediate ejection of smoke and gas right in the face.

Buffy held the launcher vertically over a shoulder while Louis checked it, who then tapped her back to indicate it was good to go.

"Three seconds," Buffy told them.

Faith took one last look at the scanner before putting it up and taking out a flashbang. Stackhouse did the same and added a frag to this mix.

Buffy blew out a breath. "Straight down 30 feet, in three...two..."

Buffy stepped into the corridor and went down on a knee, bringing the AT-4 down over her shoulder and looking through the iron sights at the end of the launcher. Moments later and a roar of noise and cloud of smoke filled the small passageway as the AT-4 hurtled the barely perceptible explosive projectile toward the Wraith's position. A mere second later and the explosion caused by the rocket's detonation produced a clap of thunder and made the floor beneath their feet shiver. The blonde Slayer dropped the tube and rolled to the side of the hall to make herself a smaller target and to return fire.

Faith leaned around the corner and flung her flashbang down the corridor, ducking back to allow Louis to do likewise. Buffy was already spitting out bullets from her P90 when the frag grenade detonated along with the harmless, but hopefully disorienting flashbangs. Faith then entered the hallway at a crouch, advancing while laying down her own fire into the smoke-filled hallway.

"Ready!" a male voice called out from behind her.

Faith fired several more bursts from her P90 to keep any surviving Wraith down while she waited for Buffy to advance. Once Buffy was directly across the hallway, she dashed sideways until she was directly behind the blonde. Louis then ran into the hall and dove onto the floor, the bipod of his M249 extended. The Marine began firing regular bursts from the machine gun into the opposite side of the hall while Faith took out the scanner to inspect their progress. The Wraith behind them were 30 feet out, quickly catching up to their position as the sound of battle reached them, but they were still 15 feet from Buffy's planted C-4. Ahead of them were only three life signs.

"Ladies, hit the deck!"

Buffy and Faith instantly went prone, just in time to avoid several stun blasts. Stackhouse answered their fire by unleashing a hail of bullets toward the source of the stun blasts.

Two life signs left.

The Wraith behind them were 20 feet behind them.

"B, blow the C-4 on my mark!"

Buffy reached down her prone form to retrieve the detonator from her waist, flipped the cap up and waited.

Faith watched the display, holding her breath... "Now!"

Buffy mashed the button down and a loud echoing 'boom' came from behind them. Glancing down, the scanner indicated the only detectable life sign behind them now was the Wraith they'd captured.

"Lou, B, two Wraith in front hugging the walls. Our asses are in the clear. B, you take the scanner and help Lou clear our way out. I'll grab our friend here," Faith offered.

"Got it," the sergeant acknowledged, folding up the bipod and rising to a crouch. Buffy did likewise, accepting the scanner and began using hand signals to indicate the Wraith positions.

Faith jogged a few steps back, ducking when she heard B shout a warning and saw a blast flying past her. She made it back to the Wraith and studied his fallen form, grimacing. Dragging him 70 feet just to get off the ship really was _not_ a practical solution. She bit her lip but quickly made a decision as she heard the rapid report of P90 fire.

She adjusted her gear to have her remaining ammunition, kris, and grenades clipped or stuffed onto her front and then moved her pistol from her waist to an unoccupied ankle holster. She then crouched down and punched the unmasked Wraith solidly in the back of the head, picked his body up by his dislocated arms and draped his body over her shoulder. She would be able to keep track of his hands this way and she'd be able to make faster progress. Even if his hand _was_ his weapon, at least this way the Wraith couldn't just take the pistol from her waist or pull the pin from a grenade with a stretch of his arm. Her P90 was draped across her chest and could be grabbed without even dropping the Wraith as long as she had a second or two of warning. Yes, this would do nicely as long as the Wraith didn't get handsy.

Carrying her burden, she peeked back around the hall to see her two teammates waiting for her while routinely making visual sweeps of the area. She jogged down the hallway until she reached them.

"Sure you wanna carry him the whole way, Faith?" Stackhouse asked skeptically.

"You know I'm stronger than I look," she said winking. She moved her hand from the Wraith's dangling legs to pat its behind. "Big boy here doesn't weigh too much."

Louis rolled his eyes. "Please don't fondle our prisoner, Faith."

"Let's go, nothing on scanner," Buffy informed them after giving Faith a light slap to the gut.

"So are we taking this lump straight to the Jumper or do we want to check for humans?" Faith asked.

"Once we pull out the Jumper, we lose our chance of a surprise evac, but dragging him around isn't a great idea either. Buffy, are you up for a little solo action?" Stackhouse asked.

Faith's eyebrows rose and she leered at Buffy.

"Oh shut up, Faith. Yeah, what are you thinking?" Buffy asked.

"Faith and I will take the captive and our extracted intel back to the Jumper; those are our primary objectives so let's make sure those are squared away. While Faith and I are accomplishing that, Buffy I want you to take the scanner and kill any Wraith you can find. Get their attention and keep it away from us so the Jumper can stay undetected when we get back to it. See if you can get a look at the gap where we saw Wraith coming in and out of during our recon. I'm thinking if there are humans, they'll be there because I saw _no_ evidence of any onboard," the Marine sergeant said definitively.

"What about the Wraith Darts?" Faith asked, sending a worried look to her lover. "All three of us will have to avoid their fucking culling beams and strafing runs."

By way of reply, Louis checked the ammo on his M249 and handed it to Buffy. "At least 150 rounds left on this box. I saw Sheppard shoot a Dart down with this thing, I'm betting you can too. Try to use your sidearm to take care of any individual Wraith to conserve ammo. I'll take Faith's P90 and give her a second pistol so you can keep your P90 as well."

They nodded in agreement, exchanged equipment, and made their way across the segment of their path back to the entrance of the ship. When they finally reached the tear in the hull, Buffy inspected the scanner. "Three dots coming from behind, but more than 50 feet back and moving slow. I see nothing in front of us except for a couple of Wraith that are about 20 feet at 10:00 o'clock. Looks like they're moving our way, too."

Louis nodded after a moment. "I'll take the lead and take 'em out, then Faith and I are gonna book it for the Jumper."

Stackhouse held the P90 to his eye and darted into the open, immediately taking down one of the two Wraith soldiers on his left before taking a knee to avoid the stun blast sent by the other. With a quick roll to the side and rising to a crouch, he dispatched the other Wraith with another neat grouping of bullets to the chest. He then ran to the laid out bodies and put a bullet into each of their heads. Faith ran after him, still holding the limp Wraith over her shoulders as she looked at the brightening sky.

"Take a few clips of ammo," she ordered him, and waited for him to dig them out of her tac vest. They both turned when they heard the sound of the M249 from behind them. "Come on, we need to go."

Louis led the way, regularly making a slight shift in direction or taking cover behind thick foliage. After just a few minutes, they heard the distinctive sound of a Wraith Dart and the accompanying sound of an explosion. Faith glanced back and watched as the Dart began to circle around the crashed Wraith ship while a plume of smoke rose in the air in its wake.

"Come on, she'll be fine," the Marine hissed.

Faith nodded and continued their rapid leap frogging back to their Jumper, making use of the trees and anything else they could find whenever a Dart passed overhead. They had less than a klick to cover now and had yet to encounter a single Wraith on their way out, the likely explanation being the comforting and familiar sound of gunfire in the distance.

"We need to hustle," Faith told him. "She'll run out of ammo soon; she didn't get much practice on the LMGs and likes to hold down the trigger."

Louis nodded, a slight sheen of sweat covering his face even if he wasn't breathing too hard. "Noticed that too." There was a sudden pause as the sergeant stopped to let her pass him as he watched their rear for any signs of pursuit.

Faith kept running, zigzagging through the slowly brightening forest until she finally saw the clearing where they'd hidden the Jumper. She felt a slight movement of the Wraith's leg her hand was wrapped around and grimaced.

"Lou, think the Wraith is waking up," she called out.

"Hold on," he called out.

She did so, his footsteps getting closer until she heard a wet 'thud' by her ear. She saw and felt the butt of the P90 slam into the back of the Wraith's head. The leg stopped twitching. "Fuck, dude's gonna wake up with one helluva headache."

"Yeah, I'm all broken up about it," the Marine quipped. He ran in front of her and turned back around, beckoning her to continue. "Roughly 150 meters, he should be able to see us in a few moments. I want to avoid using the radio if possible, so hopefully he'll let us onboard when the Darts aren't in a position to see us."

Faith nodded as she breezed past him, no longer bothering to zigzag now that they'd entered the clearing. She could just barely make out the sound of gunfire in the distance and increased her speed. She could hear Louis curse behind her as he ran behind her, struggling to keep up. She was worried Markham wouldn't see them and that she'd end up running right into the Jumper, but the ship finally decloaked when it was just 20 feet away from her. She ran around into the open hatch of the Jumper.

In the cockpit, Markham turned around from his seat to glance at the two members of his team. "Buffy?" he asked worriedly.

"She's making noise to keep them occupied, but we need to pick her up," Faith said quickly, using materials in the Jumper to tie their Wraith captive more securely.

"See you got the Wraith, how about the intel?" Markham asked, watching as Faith looped thicker cords of rope around his dislocated limbs. She then wrapped another piece of rope around the Wraith's neck and looped it around the leg restraints, keeping the Wraith's neck and torso angled toward its now slightly elevated legs. All in all, it looked both extremely awkward and excruciatingly painful.

"You need to stay in this ship and I still don't trust this Wraith enough to leave you alone with it, not if we need you focused on rescuing us. Sending just one of us alone back to Buffy is asking for trouble, too. Have you seen anymore Wraith fighters?" Stackhouse asked.

"Negative, just the two we first saw. Looks like they're still doing strafing runs and running an occasional culling beam. Hopefully that means Blondie is fine," Markham replied. "Should I call in AR-2?"

Faith looked at Stackhouse, who looked back at her.

"If we shoot the Darts down," Faith said confidently, "then we shouldn't have any problem mopping up what's left on the ground."

Markham and Faith looked at Stackhouse, who stared at their unconscious captive for several seconds before nodding firmly at his team.

"Let's get in the air and take down those Wraith Darts," Stackhouse said, patting the pilot's shoulder. "And let's go get our girl!"

"You got it," Markham acknowledged, and placed his hands on the controls.

The Puddle Jumper's hatch sealed shut and Faith heard the vibration and movement as the Jumper began its ascent into the air.

"Faith, the moment Markham fires the first shot, radio Buffy and get an update," Stackhouse ordered.

Faith nodded and withdrew her radio from her belt, watching Markham begin to move toward the downed Wraith ship and the two Wraith Darts that zipped around it like flies circling a carcass.

There was a slight thump and she watched as a trio of drones launched from the Jumper smash into a Dart preparing to strafe the area. She clicked the radio twice and waited for a response. A moment later and Buffy's voice came through the radio along with the sound of an irregular series of small bangs. The Jumper wheeled to the right and Faith saw a Dart just barely miss colliding with them.

"Hey guys, doing okay here. Got a few people here that wouldn't mind getting off this planet though. Wouldn't mind you, hold on—" A guttural Wrath voice echoed through the radio followed by a crunching sound, a whimper, and a loud thump. "Ha, I totally nailed you!"

Faith rolled her eyes, "stop making like its hammer time and focus!"

"Right. Okay now, but hurry up. Got tenish people here. If you still have the captured Wraith, might want to make sure they stay away from him or they'll form a lynch mob," Buffy recommended.

"Okay, so where are you?" Faith asked impatiently.

There was a pause. "Next to the ship. I don't know, I suck at directions!"

Stackhouse cursed.

Faith lurched as the Puddle Jumper suddenly performed a steep dive.

"There's a Dart trying to get on your ass," Buffy advised somewhat lamely.

"Oh really, you think!" Faith shouted. "Markham?"

"Those damn Darts are fast. I could go invisible but the Wraith would just wait or start strafing the ship again," the pilot replied, not looking away as he veered right to avoid the weapons fire coming from behind.

Faith chewed her lip for several moments in which she nearly fell on her ass from the Jumper's maneuvers. "Okay, I have a plan, but it could be retarded."

"Oh that fills me with _so_ much confidence," Markham yelled.

Faith stumbled to the other side of the Jumper and removed the remaining AT-4. "Markham, fly towards the ship in a straight line and open the rear hatch."

"What?!" Markham shouted incredulously. "If I stop maneuvering, they'll just shoot us down!"

"Just do it! And shut the partition so I don't fill the cockpit with smoke!" Faith yelled at him. "Lou, hang onto something and grab that Wraith. It's about to get a little breezy."

Faith wound a rope around her waist and tied it to one of the metal braces on the ship. She sat on the floor and brought the AT-4 over her shoulder. She scooted down and used a leg to brace herself against the rear wall of the Jumper, feeling the ship mark a sharp downward turn before settling in at an even heading. The hatch suddenly slid open, generating a howl of wind that nearly deafened her as all the unsecured items were flung around the inner compartment.

Faith's eyes narrowed, watching through the ironsights of the AT-4 for any hint of the Wraith. Not even two seconds later, there was a flash of movement that Faith managed to track. Settling in behind the Jumper, the Dart lined up for a presumably nice, easy shot. However, the slowly brightening sky of the early morning also made the Dart a big, fat target for Faith.

If this actually worked, she was going to get some _mad_ points from the fellas.

She sat, one leg braced against the wall of the rear compartment, took aim, and fired.

Faith felt the weapon in her hands shiver and watched the unguided rocket burst out of its tube in a blur, arcing directly toward the Dart that was chasing them. She held her breath, praying that the Dart had stayed true to its course, that she hadn't misjudged the distance, and a dozen other things. The Wraith must have seen or detected the incoming rocket because it tried to veer away, but only ended up presenting a larger target. The projectile slammed into the side of the Dart, causing the ship to fireball and spiral into the forest below.

"Holy crap, Lou, you see that shit?!" Faith shouted over the gale.

Louis just grinned and shook his head before banging on the cockpit partition when the smoke cleared the vehicle. It immediately slid open to reveal the face of an incredulous Markham. Seeing Stackhouse and Faith's grinning faces, he turned briefly to close the rear hatch before turning back.

"Did you really just do that?" he exclaimed, voice loud in the sudden quiet of the Jumper's interior.

"I want to see Bates beat _that_!" she crowed. "You see any more Darts?"

"Nothing on our scanner and not since we first blew up that first one; that might really be all they had," Markham stated.

"Then let's go pick up Buffy and her new friends," Stackhouse advised the other sergeant.

Faith held her radio to her mouth. "B, you still good?"

"Yeah, but I'm out of ammo and the hammer isn't much for long range. I'm with about ten people, pinned down in a shallow gully. Scanner shows 13 dots moving on me. Get your ass here, Faith!"

"Where's here!?" Faith shouted, annoyed. "Are you by the ship, in the forest, where!?"

"I don't know, it's still pretty dark out! I'm in the forest like 200 feet from the ship. I was heading in the general direction of the Jumper when the Wraith began chasing us. I—shit! Hurry Faith!"

"Faith, want to watch the Wraith in here or help Buffy?"

The brunette raised an eyebrow as she put in a new clip of ammo into the P90 she'd reappropriated from Stackhouse. Louis rolled his eyes and turned back to Sgt. Markha. "Land the Jumper 50 feet away from the east side of the ship and circle around until Faith radios in for extraction. Faith, you watch your ass and keep sharp; we aren't done with this op until we exit through the Stargate. Feel free to call in an airstrike if needed."

"You got it, boss." Faith froze the moment the words left her mouth, closing her eyes as memories of the Mayor flashed through her mind.

"Faith!"

Faith jumped at the voice that shouted into her ear. She shook her head to clear it and looked back to see Stackhouse watching her with worried eyes.

"I'm cool, Lou. When are we landing, Markham?"

"Ten seconds!"

"Watch the leach, Louis," she advised, and turned to face the rear hatch.

The Jumper landed and the moment the hatch opened, Faith was out like a flash toward Buffy's approximate location. She then skidded to a halt, listening carefully. "Oh my fucking god, B, you and your fucking orienteering." Faith did a 180 and began running west _toward_ the nearly inaudible Wraith voices and stun blasts.

She ran and ran, hearing the growled orders of the Wraith and the frightened cries of humans becoming louder and louder until she finally slowed her pace when she was about 150 feet from her estimation of Buffy's position. P90 held to her shoulder, Faith cautiously moved another 30 feet deeper into the forest until the gully finally became visible. The moment the Wraith became visible, Faith hid behind a tree, withdrew her range finder from the vest, and slowly peaked around to get an accurate reading on Wraith activity from both her and Buffy's position. From her vantage she could see every one of the masked and unmasked Wraith, all steadily advancing in the clearing, occasionally shooting stunners at the lip of the gully to keep the humans down. Still hoping to recapture them, Faith guessed.

Unfortunately for her, the Wraith were spread out across that open clearing and had completely encircled Buffy's gully. She was 75 feet from the closest Wraith, 110 feet from Buffy, and approximately 140 from the most distant Wraith relative to her position. They were too spread out and some were too far to make this quick and easy and the moment she started firing they'd all know where she was. She needed a quieter way to kill a few of the Wraith until using her P90 wouldn't draw immediate and overwhelming return fire. She might be the Slayer, she might be resistant to their stun blasts, but resistance didn't equate to immunity and the moment she was hit she'd be vulnerable, even if only for a short time. She looked down at herself and around the forest, looking for a source of inspiration to make a plan. She'd never been good at plans, never. She'd always been a spur of the moment kind of gal, all about getting in, stakin' the vamp, and getting...

Faith looked around the forest that was suddenly just brimming with ammunition and smiled. Well, she _had_ said she'd be their Slayer, guess she'd just have to be all old fashioned about it. The Wraith were moving forward but at a slower rate, possibly due to the thrown dagger which had just embedded itself to the hilt into the masked forehead of a Wraith soldier. _Good girl,_ Faith praised her lover silently, _now just sit tight and I'll do the rest._

12 Wraith left now.

Faith found the best specimens around her and used her kris to give them some semblance of a sharp point. She didn't have time to make many, but she only needed enough to take a few of the Wraith out without her position being made instantly.

Faith ranged in on the crashed ship and then the Wraith behind the tree again. She lowered the volume, changed the channel, and brought her radio to her mouth, speaking in a loud whisper. "Markham, I could use that airstrike Stackhouse offered."

"What's your position?" the pilot immediately asked.

Faith rolled her eyes. "I am 150 feet due _west_ of the ship, make it 46 meters. Buffy is trapped in a gully with rescuees 34 meters southwest from my position. Requesting drone strike 43 meters southwest of my position; hit between the gully and the treeline and I'll get you a date with Doctor Simpson if you manage to hit anything."

There was a moment of silence on the radio.

"I thought she said she'd gone 200 feet east, _toward_ the clearing our Jumper was in," Louis asked over the radio.

"She can pluck a fly out of the air with chopsticks, she can swing an axe or hammer better than a lumberjack, and can fire a gun with pinpoint accuracy more consistently than anyone on Atlantis. But a compass is to her as McKay's sciencey explanations are to us non-geniuses: strange, incomprehensible, slightly intimidating, and mocking."

"Fine, coming about and...think I see the gully...yeah, we found Buffy. Firing in five seconds."

"You'll really get me that date?" Markham asked hopefully.

"Yes, as long as you hit something!"

Faith slid the P90 behind her back and held a stake with one hand and the other two she'd made with the other. She counted to three and dashed out from behind the tree and ran straight toward the nearest Wraith almost directly in front of her. She drew her arm back let the first stake fly, not stopping to watch the result as she threw a second and third stake at the other two nearest Wraith.

The brunette put her hands to her mouth and screamed, "B, hit the deck!"

She unslung her P90 and swung it around to raise the reflex sight to her eye. She took a heartbeat to aim and fired two quick bursts at the Wraith standing 20 feet to her left, watching as the Wraith's neck was shredded by a neat grouping of bullets while the rest impacted against his chest with significantly less obvious results. She cursed herself quietly, those goddamn soldiers could take a lot of punishment anywhere but their neck and head; she really needed to tamp down her instinctive reaction to take out the heart.

There was a thunderous boom as the drones fired by the Puddle Jumper slammed into the opposite side of the gully. The drones cratered the ground they impacted, producing a momentary gout of flame and clouds of thick, black smoke. Faith had seen at least one Wraith disappear entirely as a drone hit the area in front of his feet, but Faith had stopped watching by then, locating and shooting yet another Wraith soldier, this one further away to her right. She ducked away from a stun blast before crouching to return fire from her P90, watching her rounds strike his chest armor with a series sparks, a slight adjustment and she watched several bullets take the Wraith in the neck and head. She was unsure if the Wraith was actually dead but couldn't follow through because she had to take cover behind a small rocky outcrop to avoid another Wraith's stun blast.

Faith stood slightly and emptied the few bullets left in her clip at the source of another stun blast. She ejected the clip and prepared to shove in a new one when she heard a footstep close behind her. Faith spun around just in time to avoid the bayonet thrust that would've taken her in the heart, feeling it spear her near the collarbone instead. She grunted at the impact, but remained standing, letting the empty P90 drop along the strap to free her hands. The Wraith soldier loomed over her, its neck bloody from the wood stake that had skewered it and seemed to exude menace. She had to bite her lip to prevent the scream from escaping her throat when he twisted the bayonet in her chest before she could react.

By dint of will, Faith reached out with her hand and clamped down onto the Wraith hand holding the rifle, ensuring that the Wraith couldn't twist the blade, push it deeper, or withdraw it. When he tried to do so, she only barely managed to match his inhuman strength from her disadvantageous position, producing sensations that were...less than pleasant. The Wraith tried to kick her her legs out to free its hand and blade, but her own leg kicked his aside. Making a frustrated noise, it reached out with a naked palm, his intentions clear.

"Let's see who gets drained first, bitch," Faith hissed.

She tried to bring her knee up between his legs but he slapped it aside, using the moment to withdraw his bayonet from her chest, spin the rifle around, and shoot her point blank in the chest. He then brought a leg up and kicked her in the chest; a surprising demonstration of limberness, she thought numbly. She felt her body fall limply to the ground half a dozen feet away, the nerves in her body screaming at the sudden and overwhelming shock of pain from the stun blast's impact. One disadvantage of being resistant to Wraith stunners was that she wasn't immediately knocked out, but instead had to suffer through the blast's painful effects until she recovered. When she'd last experienced the effects of a stun blast on the stupid bug planet, she'd imagined the most comparable sensation would be what Luke Skywalker must have felt at the hands of the Emperor. And...yep, seemed about as painful now as it did then.

She twitched and jerked as she momentarily lost control of her body, but she was still conscious, she was still aware. She could see the Wraith walking toward her with heavy, ominous, footsteps from the corner of her eye, seemingly unhurried even as yet another explosion shook the ground as the Puddle Jumper made a second strike.

The Wraith jerked the stake from its neck, bent over her, and brought a hand down to feed from her open wound. For his trouble, she stabbed his outreached hand with the kris and kicked his legs out from beneath him. The Wraith toppled over and she was on top of him in a flash, pushing the kris down until she had impaled his hand to his chest, watching as his body began to shrivel just as the other Wraith had, eventually turning to dust.

"I win," she growled, withdrawing her kris and sheathing it. She looked up and immediately threw herself sideways to avoid a flurry of stun blasts, grunting as the pain in her wound flared upon hitting the ground. Faith searched her surroundings until she located her P90, barely managing to evade another stun blast as she picked it up and hit behind the rock outcrop again. The only thing that fucking Wraith's kick to her chest had done was give her time to recover, the _moron._

Her chest wound ached and she still felt a little off from the stunner, occasionally feeling a limb or muscle twitch, but she was good enough to fight. For Buffy, she _had_ to be.

As if the thought had angered some petty god that watched over her, a stun blast missed her face by about an inch as she ran to a nearby group trees for a better position and new cover. By her quick estimation, there were three Wraith left standing from the Jumper's airstrikes and from her own attack. The other two Wraith she'd staked were unmoving, each Wraith sporting a stake impaled through the base of their neck.

Faith found a good spot to observe the area surrounding the copse and watched as the remaining Wraith found their own form of cover against the Jumper still circling in the skies above. The good news was that Buffy and those captured in the middle were safe-ish. The bad news is that taking out the remaining Wraith was going to be a bitch and a half. There were two about 15 feet at a two o'clock position from her, and only about five feet from the edge of the gully. That needed to change.

The last one was far enough away that she wasn't going to worry about him for now. She was ready to break cover and attack when a flash of movement in the trees caught her eye. Perhaps 90 feet away, a small group of Wraith, three soldiers and one of the unmasked leaders, were running through the forest in her direction. She cursed and took a knee, hissing at the pain in her chest while pressing the P90 tightly to her shoulder. She set the P90 to semi-auto, took a deep breath and carefully aimed through the reticle, trying to make out their forms in the dim morning light. She ignored the two stun blast that went wide of her and pulled the trigger.

One shot and the Wraith leader toppled to the ground with a bullet between the eyes. She now targeted the Wraith soldier who was looking sideways at his fallen leader, presumably in surprise. _Good, give me a nice side profile_ , she thought.

She pressed the trigger again and a small hole appeared in one side of the soldier's head while a spray of red burst out of the opposite side. One of the Wraith fired another stun blast, again going wide but now uncomfortably close. Faith tapped the trigger three times, one impacting against the center of the Wraith's chest, the other two into its masked skull. She doubted the chest hit had done anything, but a headshot was a headshot. She switched targets and repeated the procedure, killing the remaining Wraith soldier with two shots to the head. Being motionless for so long had its consequences, however, as her injured upper chest took the last stun blast the Wraith had fired.

It wasn't as debilitating as the last blast; they seemed to become somewhat less effective after subsequent blasts, but it still felt like fire ants were crawling into her wound and biting the exposed flesh, ripping and tearing—

Faith vomited onto the ground, her arm clamped against her bleeding wound.

She probably shouldn't have pictured that.

She spat bile from her mouth and took a quick drink of water from her canteen to clear the taste from her mouth. She heard a terrified scream from the gully, followed by the unmistakable sound of Wraith stunners. A sickening, crunching sound echoed in the clearing and Faith watched the crushed Wraith fly past her into a nearby tree. _Huh, guess B and her hammer of ball smashing is_ _okay_ , she thought somewhat stupidly, mind still fuzzy with the blinding pain in her shoulder.

Faith waited a moment, took a deep breath, and stood slowly, bringing her P90 back up to her injured shoulder with gritted teeth. Two Wraith left, and she had no idea where they were. She ignored the sensation of blood slowly dripping down her chest and looked warily at the quiet forest around her, looking for anymore wouldbe Slayer...Slayers. Seeing none, she moved quickly, bent low to the ground as she searched for her targets. She saw no movement on the far side of the gully, but she _did_ see a Wraith soldier pulling out a circular device, handling it like a grenade as he stepped back from the gully, obviously preparing to toss it down. Faith narrowed her eyes. _No way, fugly._

She straightened, aimed, and shot the device out of the Wraith's hand before firing a burst of rounds into the Wraith's ass. Oh god, she'd been wanting to do that for a while, just to see what would happen. She ran toward the Wraith, or meant to, but her right leg collapsed the moment she put her full weight upon it. She cursed as her leg twitched violently for a few seconds, and groaned as her chest was jarred by the impact. _Fucking stunners._

The Wraith grunted but didn't even stagger back and was already bringing his stunner to bear on her. She brought herself to a crouch, aimed at the Wraith, and fired. She proceeded to swear viciously when all she heard was the unwelcome sound of a click indicating an empty clip. _Teach me to waste bullets on shooting a Wraith in the ass._

She rolled left to avoid a stun blast and got to her feet, letting the P90 fall behind her on its strap. She ran toward the Wraith, sidestepping the first stun blast and ducking under the second, picking up speed as she raced across the open clearing. Faith jumped over a blast and saw the Wraith reverse his rifle to bring his bayonet out to play.

Faith was running at full speed now, flicking out her sword and praying very hard that her body didn't spaz out for at least another five seconds. Her shoulder hurt, she'd gotten stabbed _again_ , and she wanted to pay the pain forward. The Wraith thrust the bayonet forward and she simply pirouetted around the blade, bringing her sword up to...disarm him. Rifle and arms fell to the grassy forest floor, but she didn't stop, bending low to take one of his legs off at the knee. She turned around to behead him as began his descent toward the ground, punting the separated head like a football in the direction she'd last seen the remaining Wraith. She held still, listening and watching the area intently before she collapsed her sword, reloaded the P90, and held the rifle to her shoulder watchful as she took a few steps closer to the gully.

It was suddenly very, very quiet in the large clearing.

"Uh...honey? I'm home?" Faith asked, not willing to risk a hammer to the face by peeking below.

A blonde mop of bedraggled hair popped over the lip of the gully. "We clear?"

"Looks clear. You have the scanner, you tell me," Faith prompted, looking around again. Of course, the moment she said those words, a scream came from the gully below. Faith didn't hesitate to jump in, landing awkwardly at the bottom as one of her legs twitched. There were maybe a dozen people in the gully: men, women, and children, all of varying age and condition; they looked dirty, hungry, and scared. Four of them were obviously unconscious from stun blasts they'd taken, likely when she'd heard that first scream, Faith guessed.

But it was the snarling unmasked Wraith who held her attention, dragging a pretty, young woman with him as he moved back, one of his hands gripped around her throat.

"Where the fuck do you guys even come from?" Faith shouted derisively. "I haven't seen a _single_ Wraith female. Do you just fucking make like Arnold in Junior? Or do they just not want to be seen with you in public?"

The woman gasped in pain and aged perceptibly in front of her eyes.

"You believe yourself to be amusing?" the Wraith hissed. "When my Queen discovers what has happened here, she will hunt you across the galaxy. No chattel will be allowed to stand against the Wraith."

"So what do you want?" Faith growled. "You want something or you wouldn't waste your time being so chatty."

"Put down your weapons, take her place, and the rest shall go free, even the ones that fly in the Lantean ship. My Queen would be greatly pleased to make your acquaintance," the Wraith purred.

Faith looked at the Wraith for a long moment, her anger rising at the arrogant cruelty in his eyes and at the woman's pained face. She glanced back at Buffy and whatever Buffy saw in her eyes made the blonde flinch.

"Sure," Faith told the Wraith lightly, and began to unstrap and drop her weapons, quickly creating a large pile on the dirt.

"Be thorough, amusing one," the Wraith told her with a display of sharp teeth. The woman held by the Wraith cried out in pain as grey began to streak through her hair. Faith heard a shout of dismay and anguish from one of the women in the crowd behind her; the woman's mother, she guessed as her anger rose to a pitch. Faith held her hands up and approached him at an even pace.

The woman cried out weakly, her hair now completely gray, face becoming lined with wrinkles.

"Your pretty little blade on the wrist, too, amusing one," the Wraith snarled, "and the knife!"

"Oh, of course," Faith exclaimed sweetly and began the process of removing her wrist sheath for her extendable sword.

"And the knife!" the Wraith reminded her.

"I need the knife for the girl," Faith said indicating his hostage, taking out the kris and holding it with the point facing herself.

"What do you mean?" the Wraith snapped.

Faith walked closer to him, stopping only when the girl moaned in pain. "Look you paranoid piece of crap, put the girl right in front of you. I'm going to stab her and put her out of her misery, then feel free toss her to the side and do what you want."

The Wraith stilled, looking at her with curious, narrowed eyes. It smiled and held the girl upright in front of him as she'd asked. Faith held eye contact with him as the girl began whimpering and trying to edge away from her and the kris. The Wraith adjusted his grip to keep his hand from Faith's reach and stepped back slightly. She flipped the dagger upright, nodded at him, and thrust it into the girl's belly.

The Wraith chuckled as the woman Faith had thought to be the girl's mother screamed in despair. Without a second thought, he tossed the girl's corpse aside, knife still embedded in her gut.

"Turn around," the Wraith ordered, circling a finger to emphasize his meaning.

Faith did so, letting her back face the Wraith. She glanced at Buffy; her face had gone pale and her eyes were wide and even though she held the Troll Hammer she was obviously aware of her own powerlessness at the moment. The brunette Slayer closed her eyes and let out a breath as the Wraith's footsteps approached her from behind. She felt one of his hands reach out to grab her around the throat just as he had with the woman. She wrapped her hand around the Wraith's wrist before its palm made contact with her neck and twisted until she felt the bone break beneath her fingers. Faith mule kicked the Wraith in his right leg hard enough that his femur snapped and tore through his flesh. She spun around and grabbed the Wraith by the front of its weird dress-thing and pulled him forward to deliver a satisfying headbutt.

This one was evidently a more capable fighter than most of the others because he was able to throw a quick punch that managed to connect with her face. Her head snapped back but she managed to prevent herself from stumbling back. The Wraith, even with his right leg unable to function, was still standing as he tried the same maneuver. She stepped back and then advanced quickly.

She batted away the stunner pistol he tried to withdraw with his injured hand and was rewarded with a solid punch to her injured collarbone. A searing spike of pain tore through her arm and she had to concentrate on dodging his attempt to put a palm on her cheek to feed and heal itself.

"Oh fuck you," Faith growled, batting away another attempt to strike her and giving the Wraith a solid punch to its face, followed by another, and another. Another series of blows and she let the Wraith stumble back with a shattered nose, crying out as his leg finally gave way beneath him. He was able to keep upright on one knee; that was good, she wasn't anywhere near done with him. She advanced toward him, her rage over his actions...her actions, fresh in her mind. She paused briefly to let a weak swipe of his uninjured hand fly past her before grabbing hold of it.

"This, buddy, is going to hurt," she hissed menacingly at him. Faith twisted the arm to an uncomfortable angle and brought it lower to the ground. She then brought her knee up into the elbow with as much force as she could muster. The arm suddenly went limp as the bone fragmented, but she wasn't ready to stop. She brought her knee up again, and again, and again until the arm felt like a limp noodle..

The Wraith tried to slap her away with its broken hand as it screamed, but Faith just grabbed the newly available wrist and squeezed, feeling the already broken bones shifting and fracturing into smaller pieces under her grip. She pulled both of its arms together to make a cross over its chest before kicking the Wraith in the face. Again, and again, and again. She knew he'd have fallen to the ground by now, but she held him upright by his crossed arms, using them as leverage as her booted right foot slammed into his face again and again, blood splattering across his face from his shattered nose and jaw. Faith didn't want this Wraith to die, no, this Wraith she wanted to suffer, to die in agony for what he'd done. For what she'd done. She switched to her left foot and started on his face again.

She'd promised herself when she was in prison that she'd never let someone else make or convince her to kill someone the way the Mayor had, but more importantly, she'd promised herself that she'd never ask for that chance. This Wraith hadn't asked or ordered her to kill the girl, but if she hadn't complied with his demands then she would have been the cause of the woman's death. She wasn't naive, she knew it wouldn't have been _her_ fault, but knowing it and believing it are two different things. And so she'd asked the Wraith for the opportunity to kill someone and whatever the circumstances and whatever the woman's fate might be, she'd broken that promise. Whatever her intentions, it was _he_ who had put her into that position.

Faith kicked the face of the Wraith again, and again, and again before letting his shattered arm fall limply to his side. However, she maintained her hold of the arm that merely sported a broken wrist. She smiled grimly at the slight rise and fall of the Wraith's chest. Not dead then. _Good._

She tugged the Wraith forward by the hand she still held, twisting to allow the limp body to topple face up onto the ground. Positioning herself above him, Faith lifted the hand she'd kept hold of and stomped on the side of its elbow with enough force to destroy the joint. She repeated the motion over, and over until Faith let the hand fall to the ground. She stood above the Wraith breathing in harsh, ragged gasps of air.

She let her knee fall onto the Wraith's chest, hearing something crack beneath her. She leaned in and began slamming her fist into its face over, and over, and over, watching with morbid satisfaction as its face became unrecognizable through the blood, torn flesh, and cracked, exposed bone. After a couple of minutes, she straightened looking down at the broken body of the Wraith in front of her. The Wraith was as still as a corpse, and given the lack of chest movement, that appeared to be the accurate term. She leaned further down, put a hand under its chin and another across the top of its head and began to twist until the loud crack of its snapped neck was like a thunderclap that echoed throughout the silent clearing.

Faith stood up and straightened, ignoring the pain from her stab wound and kept her eyes fixed on the lifeless mass in front of her. She could hear Buffy and Louis in the background, getting people seated and situated on the Puddle Jumper but she remained where she was, panting, damp hair obscuring her vision, and skin glistening with sweat. Her boots, hands, and jacket sleeves were dripping red in the dawn sky.

"Yeah, I'd be most pleased to make your Queen's acquaintance, too," she murmured to the corpse, "and what I'll do to her will make what I did to you seem like a walk in the park."

Faith took out her canteen, drank some of the water before using the rest to clean herself as best she could.

There was a clatter behind her and Faith glanced up to see her bone kris laying a few feet away from her on a pile of loose stones. The woman she'd stabbed, now returned to her youthful appearance without so match as a scratch to show from the ordeal, was being held upright by two of the freed men. The men and the woman stared at her with wide eyes that held a gamut of emotions. Awe. Wonder. Confusion. Relief. Gratitude. Fear.

The last one hurt, but she didn't blame them for being a little freaked out after the kind of show she'd just put on. Fuck, even Illyria would have kept her shit together, or at least made it quick.

"Thank you," the woman whispered, less fear and more gratitude evident in her soft voice.

Faith nodded and bent to take the kris as the rejuvenated woman was taken back to the Jumper. Faith began to slowly pick up her discarded gear, putting things away methodically before she realized she was being a coward by delaying. She didn't want to see fear in the others' eyes, not from the strangers, not Lou or Markham if they'd also seen, and B... What Buffy had seen would probably bring back some not so pleasant memories of a certain psycho-Slayer in Sunnydale. Faith closed her eyes, exhaled deeply, and picked up the rest of her gear before making her way to the Puddle Jumper.

None of the strangers inside would meet her eyes, though to be fair, most were concentrated on huddling together as they tried to process their sudden change of fate and fortune. The captured Wraith was awake and looking pained and very sour about his situation as he sat awkwardly in the corner of the Jumper. Buffy sat between him and the rescued humans and only briefly met Faith's eyes before looking away. Stackhouse was in the other corner, pistol in hand as he watched the Wraith. He caught her eye and nodded to the cockpit before slapping a hand against the partition to catch Markham's attention.

The wall slid open and Faith stepped inside without another word, taking the copilot seat next to Markham. She strapped herself in, hissing at the newly applied pressure to her injury. She fell silent and watched the forest canopy disappear below the viewport as the Jumper rose into the air.

"Remind me never to piss you off, Faith," Markham remarked lightly from the pilot's seat.

"Fuck you," Faith replied in a soft voice. "Let's go home."

"Three minutes from the Stargate, get ready to dial Atlantis and send our IFF signal," Markham ordered, taking her words to heart and letting it go. "You're still getting me a date with Simpson?"

Faith nodded and settled in for the short flight to the Stargate. Glancing down, she clenched a trembling hand into a fist and waited for Markham's go-ahead to dial the Gate.

* * *

 **Several days after AR-3's departure...  
** _M4S-683_

 _The man looked around the clearing, at the many Wraith corpses that littered the area and felt his lips pull back in a smile of satisfaction. An informant among the Hoffan people had revealed that a group of strangers had come to this place, searching_ for _the Wraith,_ and _had lived to tell of it. The strangers' description matched those of the small party that had recently visited his planet and caused trouble that could have so easily been avoided. But whatever he and his people might feel about those strangers, any victory against the Wraith was a victory for the Genii and what he'd found on this planet had left him reluctantly impressed._

 _The strangers had visited a great deal of damage upon the Wraith, enough so that it would have been difficult, perhaps even impossible, for the Genii to match with their current weapons and technology. But that was, after all, why they had followed those strangers to this planet: to find technology for the Genii that might compensate for the Wraith's premature awakening._

 _Admittedly, there had only been two of the small Wraith ships, both destroyed, and what appeared to be a relatively small amount of Wraith in the area, but that didn't detract from the strangers' victory. His people had combed the area, scavenging for parts and weapons while looking for clues as to how the strangers had overcome the Wraith._ _Aside from the ship's interior and the immediate area surrounding the ship, the clearing he stood in was the only other place that bore any evidence of the battle._

 _And what a battle it must have been, the man thought, looking not only at the battered corpse in front of him, but also remembering the decapitated Wraith, Wraith cut in half or slashed to pieces, some crushed completely to death, and the many found who'd been riddled with projectiles so similar to their own. But the Wraith at his feet in front of him..._

 _Only one person had done this, one of Ladon's technicians had reported. A woman or a young man, judging by the footprints in the dirt and the hand shaped bruises found on the corpse. Sora had been in agreement with_ _Cowen that the strangers, for all their technology and advanced weaponry, were unusually soft in spirit. And given the size of those bruises, it_ would _have been a_ very _young man._ Too _young._

 _The Wraith had shown no signs of being bound or hampered in any way and yet it had been beaten to death with such precision and with a degree of ruthlessness and cruelty that was uncommon even among his people. He had found himself in agreement with Sora; s_ _omewhere on Atlantis was a woman who had beaten a_ Wraith _to death_ before _breaking_ _its neck for good measure._ _The Wraith were stronger, faster, and more durable than any man; so_ _what manner of woman could do this?_ Would _do this?_

 _One he'd very much like to meet, was the obvious answer to his internal musing._

 _"Commander!"_

 _The man looked up to see the young woman he'd just been thinking of jogging toward him, carefully averting her eyes from the battered corpse at his feet._

 _"Yes Sora?"_

 _The young redhead stood straight. "We've encountered only a small number of Wraith in the area surrounding the ship, but not so many that our men were unable to handle them. Ladon and Dahlia are already in the ship, taking samples and recordings."_

 _"Very good, Sora, very good. I know that things have been difficult since your father was killed under such regrettable circumstances, but I know that he'd be proud of your being here to help arm our people against the Wraith."_

 _The young woman straightened and gave him a proud smile. "Both Radims believe they'll find enough information or resources that we'll be able to do many great things. Both have stated, however, that the prisoner's cooperation would be...helpful." Sora grimaced as she finished her report, looking disgusted at the thought._

 _The man nodded thoughtfully. "Sora, were you aware that the Wraith will cannibalize each other when they begin to starve?"_

 _Sora blinked at the seeming non sequitur. "I've heard it, yes."_

 _"Then inform our people that they are to take a Wraith alive, if possible. Our prisoner can enjoy him as a treat so long as he cooperates," the man ordered softly. "Do not worry Sora, your father will receive his due justice when we take Atlantis for the Genii."_

 _"Thank you, Commander."_

 _The man nodded and continued examining the corpse at his feet before making his way to the crashed spaceship that was visible over the treeline._

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Chapter title taken from Dresden Files. Thanks Jim Butcher for writing awesome books. This chapter originally lacked the _entire_ Wraith attack sequence. After saying earlier in the story that the third part would have more action, I wanted to make sure I followed through. Aside from the Wraith scenes, this chapter was mostly about further development between our heroes, and about the kris. There's also a pretty good setup for yet another big action sequence down the line. If you can't guess what's coming, shame on you.

There was a bit of an explanation for the beat down scene with the Wraith, namely that killing an innocent was something she'd promised herself that she'd never do. First, no, Faith did _not_ know for certain that the kris would heal the woman or to what extent. Add in memories of the Mayor and the professor she killed and things get a little tense for Faith. I'll go a little more into it later, but I really wanted to emphasize that, though she's become undeniably happier and stable, she's still a young woman with a shitty background and a life that never got much better until _very_ recently. The situation the Wraith placed her in was a reminder of a past she'd so much rather forget. Remember when Faith was in Buffy's body, beating the shit out of herself? There was a little bit of that, too.  
The scene was partially inspired by the movie Unleashed. In the movie, Jet Li is basically owned by a douchebag who raised him to be his little attack dog to make money in fights. Whenever his collar goes off, Jet Li basically goes ape shit and just wails on people, which is kinda how I was trying to portray Faith during that scene.

As for the long kris sequence at the beginning, I thought it deserved an explanation even if it really is pretty flimsy. I'd been alluding to it every now and then so I wanted to give it _some_ time. In regards to the kris's age: don't forget about the modified timeline. Lanteans fled 100,000 years ago, not 10,000, so that's why the Keeper in the hive used that number regarding "rich feeding grounds" and why the kris's age is plausible. The connection to the Slayer hasn't really been explained, but what Ancient is physically capable of going 1v1 with a Wraith, so...Slayer is the answer. Hope the explanation of the kris and its properties didn't disappoint.

Canon discussion: The ship I was trying to describe that crashed on M4S-683 was a Wraith cruiser. Their approximate size runs from about the length of the Daedalus (~225 m) to 900 m in length (depending on who you ask). To put it in scale, Hive ships are about 11,000 m in length.  
According to canon, _after_ the first Wraith stun blast, they don't actually cause anymore pain. Given that Faith, in this case, was not truly stunned, I am inferring that the stun blasts will _continue_ to cause pain until she _was_ stunned. Throwing that out there for any canon purists.


	26. No Matter Where You Go, There You Are

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Six**

 _ **No Matter Where You Go, There You Are**_

* * *

 **Author's Note:** In the interest of keeping this top A/N section short, I'm moving my responses/answers to reviews to the end of the chapter. Writing that last chapter took a lot out of me and, judging by the reviews, wasn't my best work. That's thrown me off a bit because I've been doing lots of writes and rewrites with that criticism in mind. By including an aftermath section for last chapter and creating the build-up for Storm, I'll be having to break with my current trend of 10 chapters per part. Trying to fit it all together would just be too much to be manageable.

I'm not really that happy about this chapter, to be honest; it was a lot more than I wanted to write for what is essentially a filler chapter and doesn't really bring much to the table other than to fill in some blanks, answer some questions, and resolve some inner struggles. Unfortunately, there are likely going to be delays between the next few chapter releases because I haven't been able to write out and plan the next few chapters like I was doing before. I expect it to be several weeks until I release chapter seven, but hopefully the extra time will mean that I can release a chapter of higher quality.

* * *

#

 **January 21st, 2006  
** _Atlantis_ **  
**

"Well, don't you look happy," Major Sheppard observed sarcastically, standing several feet away from the stationary brunette.

Faith sighed and ignored the annoyingly cheerful Air Force officer.

"Everyone on your team is safe, you rescued some people, you captured a Wraith," Sheppard enumerated slowly as he peered down at her. "You get the intel Kavanagh was all hot to trot about, too?"

"Stackhouse has it," Faith affirmed.

"So why do you look like someone just ran over your dog?" John asked, eyes taking in her slumped shoulders and the shadows that haunted her brown eyes. "It was my mission that went to hell, not yours."

"That'll be enough out of you, Maj. Sheppard. Can't you see the lass is wounded?" Doctor Beckett asked, slapping the man aside. "Now sit down, Faith, and don't give me that terrifying glare of yours because it won't do you a lick of good right now."

Sheppard blinked in surprise. She was covered in blood, yes, but she seemed to be moving well enough. To his further surprise, Faith did as the doctor ordered without so much as a token protest. Taking off her tac vest and her more obstructive gear, the brunette hefted herself up on a nearby crate.

"It's not bad." Faith looked to the side and added quietly, "I've had worse."

Sheppard followed Faith's gaze to where Buffy and one of Atlantis's security teams were escorting their Wraith prisoner out of the hanger.

"Christ, how did you get so much blood on you?" Beckett asked, helping Faith remove her jacket.

Faith didn't answer, just removed her shirt with a grimace of pain.

Sheppard had served in the military for years now and the sight of a woman's torso clad only in a sports bra was nothing new to him. He could appreciate, yes, but when wearing the uniform, he would be nothing but respectful and professional. So it was something of a surprise to himself when he found himself staring openly at her chest. In this case, however, it had less to do with her admittedly impressive assets and more to do with the large, still bleeding, stab wound below her left collarbone.

"Bloody hell, Faith," Beckett exclaimed.

Faith blew out a breath. "Just give me some antibiotics and a tetanus shot, wrap me up, and I'll be fine. No organs or bones hit, just a simple in and out."

"Faith?"

Sheppard, Beckett, and Faith all looked up in surprise as Buffy came back into the hanger to stand a small distance away, looking worried and unsure.

"Faith...when did this happen?" Buffy asked hesitantly. "Why didn't you say anything?"

At the sudden increase of tension in the air and each young woman's stiffer than normal posture, Sheppard had the sudden inclination to be anywhere but there. His personal drama was more than enough drama for him, he didn't need to witness anyone else's. He'd never been big on retreating however, so he kept silent and concentrated on helping Faith.

Faith glanced up the blonde and shrugged. Buffy blew out a breath and joined their small group. "Give me what she needs; I'll take care of her."

"But—"

Buffy stepped into his space with her hand extended. "Gimme," she commanded.

At his obstinate glare, she almost growled. "I'll go fishing with you again."

Beckett's face became the very picture of conflicted. "You girls are as bad as the Marines, you know that? Bad patients, the lot of you." The doctor withdrew the supplies and handed them to the blonde. "Take care of that numpty of yours, Buffy, and I'll have your hide if you make things worse."

Buffy thanked him with a kiss to the cheek, turning the man's face an interesting color of red. She draped one of Faith's arms over her and helped her stand up.

"I'm not an invalid, B. I can get up," Faith complained.

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should," Buffy retorted, the double meaning clearly not lost on either as Faith turned away.

"Sheppard, could you take care of all that stuff?" Buffy asked, waving at Faith's gear. "But bring the kris to our room or hold onto it."

"I'm not your servant, Buffy," John said in an outraged tone.

Buffy raised a brow.

"We'll take care of it, Buffy, now go take care of your lass," Beckett said.

Buffy smiled her thanks and assisted Faith in leaving the bay.

Sheppard glared at Carson Beckett who just smiled sympathetically at him.

"You're only enabling them, Dr. Beckett," John warned with a raised finger, even as he bent to collect Faith's discarded gear. "And what the hell is a numpty?"

The Scotsman just chuckled.

#

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" Buffy asked, applying the gauze to Faith's wound while sitting beside her at the foot of their bed.

"There hasn't been a moment where I could," Faith answered truthfully, shivering as cool air met skin still damp from the shower.

"You could have told me in the Jumper!"

"You mean when you wouldn't even look at me?" Faith returned harshly.

Buffy looked down. "I've never seen you like that before. Not even at your worst."

"You have," Faith corrected. "Once."

Buffy furrowed her brows in thought before she began to slowly nod. "When you/me started beating the hell out of you/me?" she asked with a weak smile.

Faith hummed her agreement. "When does Sumner want to debrief us?"

"He doesn't matter, what matters is that yo—"

"B."

Buffy exhaled noisily. "He's seeing us individually tomorrow. Barring any delays, I'm scheduled at noon, you're an hour later."

Faith nodded her understanding.

"What happened Faith? We both know we could have killed that Wraith easily and you knew that you could have healed the girl, so—"

"I didn't know, B," Faith interrupted the blonde Slayer, "I didn't know if it would heal her. I tested it _once_ on a shoulder wound, but I had no idea it'd work as well as it did. I asked to kill a human, B, and I did it believin' I'd be putting her out of her misery. I was hoping, _hoping_ that my assumptions about the kris would be right, but that's all it was."

Buffy studied her for a moment before pressing one of her hands against Faith's cheek. "That fight when we were switched, you weren't seeing me in your body, were you? You were seeing you and trying to...hurt you."

Faith lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

"You see a little bit of yourself in the Wraith tonight? Not...physically, obviously, but I—" Buffy stopped herself. "You know what I mean?"

Faith nodded. "No..." she said slowly before she began a little more hesitantly, "it was about the Mayor. It's always about the Mayor."

Buffy didn't stiffen or withdraw as Faith had halfway expected, instead the blonde shrugged off her clothes and scooted back until she was leaning against the headboard. "C'mere," the blonde said, spreading her legs and beckoning with both hands.

Faith eyed Buffy's nude form. "No offense, B, but not really feelin' it right now."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I don't want to have sex, Faith, I just want to hold you."

Faith shifted uncomfortably but complied, taking care not to jostle the wound or bandage, slowly scooting back until she sat between Buffy's legs. There she found herself curiously reluctant to close the remaining distance between them and spent a moment trying to figure out why. She was still new to the whole intimacy without sex thing, but what Buffy wanted made her feel even more...vulnerable? _Wouldn't take much of a psychologist to dissect_ that _one into a whole bunch of hang-ups_ , Faith thought sourly.

The choice to close that distance was ultimately taken from her when Buffy grabbed her gently around the belly and drew her back until Faith could feel the blonde's breasts pressed against her back. Faith remained stiff and tense for a long moment before she blew out a breath, closed her eyes, and let her head fall back onto Buffy's bare shoulder when the other girl's arms stayed wrapped around her middle.

"You know, I really didn't want to have sex, but I have to admit I'm intrigued by the possibilities of this position," Buffy murmured into her ear.

Faith smiled faintly. It wasn't a come-on, she knew, just an attempt to ease her obvious discomfort. Points for effort.

"Talk to me, Faith," the blonde Slayer pleaded quietly. "Talk to me. You're not going to scare me away, not this time, not when we've come this far." Buffy kissed the side of her head and tightened her arms around Faith as if to underscore her words.

Faith felt a surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her, leaving her silent for a few long moments as she tried to understand what it was she was feeling. Oddly enough, she was rescued by her recollection of an 80s movie that had starred Andre the Giant, its only redeeming feature she'd thought at the time. One of the few happy and normal memories of her life in Boston had been spent, not on slaying vampires or learning about demons, but on watching movies with her Watcher, Diana.

At the time, Faith had thought the movie cheesy and lame: not enough action, no sex, corny humor, and a disgustingly optimistic portrayal of 'true love'. But if she never appreciated that movie for anything else, she'd appreciate it now for providing relief for the emotion that seemed poised to crush her beneath its intensity and for supplying the perfect response to Buffy's words. Faith raised her head slightly and kissed Buffy lightly on the lips. Letting her lips draw back from Buffy's, Faith whispered three words she'd never thought she'd say with a meaning she'd never thought she'd mean.

"As you wish."

* * *

 **January 22nd, 2006**

"Sergeant Stackhouse, take a seat," Colonel Sumner ordered the younger man.

"Thank you, sir," the young brown-haired Marine replied smartly. He took a seat opposite the colonel in the conference room and folded his hands neatly on the crescent-shaped, illuminated table.

"Alright, son, go ahead and walk me through your mission on M4S-683," the colonel said, resting a pen on top of a small notepad in front of him

Louis paused and released a deep breath. "Colonel? When you first told me about adding Faith and Buffy to AR-3 and making _it_ the team that performed special operations, I asked you why you'd included two green civilians. You told me to come talk to you about it when I figured it out."

Sumner nodded, face blank.

"Sir, it was pretty obvious that _something_ was weird about them from the get-go, Burkle too, for that matter. But I've seen some things now, things that...aren't really explainable even by _our_ standards. I don't know what it is and I don't care what it is, but I want _you_ to know that I want _them_ on my team," Louis stated emphatically. "Colonel, I watched that fucking weird knife of Faith's turn a Wraith into dust. I've seen Faith run faster than me while carrying a limp body, I've seen Buffy jump over boulders that no world-class athlete could've, and I've seen their faces when they're killing. They aren't normal and they aren't perfect, but I wouldn't trade either Buffy or Faith for anything."

Sumner leaned back for a minute and gauged the other man's words. "Alright, Sergeant, I'll keep that in mind, now go ahead and give me that report."

* * *

The Marine colonel was still ensconced in the conference room hours later after the three long debriefings he'd conducted. Doctor Weir had sat in on one of them for her own curiosity, but had abstained from speaking, partly for his benefit, Sumner suspected. It was an indisputable fact that Weir was the head of the expedition, but having a civilian in charge of an isolated group foraying into unknown territory while under the protection of a semi-independently operating military contingent could make things...tricky. No doubt she was as relieved as he was that they'd each made an effort to accommodate the other and had avoided stepping on each other's toes whenever possible.

His meandering thoughts regarding the former diplomat ceased when the conference door slid open to admit the remaining member of AR-3 that he'd yet to interview. Faith looked tired, which was to be expected after such an intense and physically demanding mission, but looked perfectly healthy otherwise, which was less expected after being stabbed the day before. He idly wondered if the stab wound Beckett had reported was even still visible on the rapidly healing 'Slayer'.

However upon a closer inspection, the young woman didn't just look tired, Sumner realized, Faith looked _exhausted_. The mischievous light in her eyes that was so _Faith_ seemed especially dim today and he was caught off guard by how keenly he felt that loss. He sighed inwardly at his own foolishness and gave the brunette his full attention.

"Faith, please sit down," he instructed, waving at the otherwise unoccupied table. "How's the shoulder?"

The Bostonian shrugged as she sat down. "Mostly healed. Probably be 100% by tonight."

Sumner nodded, tamping down his instinctive disbelief. "Glad to hear it. Let's begin."

Faith looked exhausted, wary, but determined as well.

 _Good_ , Sumner thought, _she'll need to be determined to get off my shit list_. Mischievous eyes or not, she'd fucked up good. "Alright Faith," he said levelly, "let's hear about your mission, starting from your discovering of the room that held the Wraith computers."

Faith nodded and began making her report.

#

Sumner nodded as Faith came to a finish, ending at the point where she'd received treatment from Beckett in the hanger. He glanced down at his tablet, idly tapping the device with his stylus as he considered the questions he'd already prepared or had jotted down throughout her recounting. "Why did you want to bring _that_ Wraith to Atlantis? Your team had agreed beforehand to capture one on the way out, so why the change of plan?"

Faith frowned. "He was the first Wraith who ever spoke to me," she finally said.

Sumner returned Faith's frown with one of his own. "I don't follow."

"He wasn't what I expected," Faith answered slowly. "I mean the big soldiers are all assholes, but most of the unmasked ones seem...a little sadistic, you know? They _like_ to cause fear, they _like_ to hurt you, at least that's what I've seen so far. Maybe it's just the circumstances of how we met, but the one we captured didn't have that smug, disdainful, "you're just livestock" look on his face that all the others had, even when surrounded by their own dead. He seemed more thoughtful? I guess is what I'm trying to say."

The colonel contemplated both the Slayer and her answer to his question for a brief time before speaking again. "I haven't heard it put quite that way, but yes, they do seem to possess something of a superiority complex. In fairness to them, they _did_ drive the Ancients out and have held a stranglehold on this galaxy for millennia, but your point still stands. I haven't been able to observe the Wraith for myself, but being able to engage in any sort of meaningful dialog with the Wraith should prove...interesting. I hope that your observations about that particular Wraith hold true, Faith, and good work on bringing him in."

Faith nodded slightly. "Thanks Col. Sumner."

"Now, speaking of the Wraith," Sumner said slowly, "would you like to explain why you put your life, the lives of your teammates, and the success of your mission in jeopardy in order to beat that Wraith in the gully to death?" The Marine leaned forward to emphasize the depth of his displeasure. "From my understanding, your mission's goals had been met and your evac was in the air waiting for your signal, so why did you waste time with that Wraith when you could have ended it quickly?"

Faith opened her mouth to speak, but evidently the Marine wasn't quite finished with her. "That was an unfamiliar planet, Faith, one that had a confirmed Wraith presence. You had no way of knowing if there were any more Wraith converging on your position. Every moment you lingered was a moment that you could've been detected, attacked, or even followed back to Atlantis."

Seeing that the colonel had finished, Faith swallowed and set her shoulders. "Colonel...I—"

"If you were one of my soldiers, Faith, I would have you in the brig, confined to quarters, or removed from the mission roster for the foreseeable future. However, you are not under my command, you are under Dr. Weir's and she has decided that you are to be confined to Atlantis. She'll be contacting you later about what she expects from you."

"I understand," Faith murmured.

"That will remain the case until such time as I feel you can resume off-world missions without endangering the lives of others," Sumner finished by crossing his arms. "You can start by explaining yourself."

"I broke a promise," Faith said softly.

Sumner blinked.

"You know my record, Colonel, you know I've got blood on my hands," Faith said quietly. "I'm a murderer, but that's not all I am. I'm trying to be better, trying to redeem myself, and to be what I should've been all along. Most days I'm successful," she said with a faint smile. Her face abruptly darkened, "but not yesterday."

"You broke a promise?" Sumner repeated.

Faith nodded. "Redemption...it's a funny thing. Sounds all lofty and shit, but it's not, not really. It's all about drawing that line, the line that I use to decide who I'm gonna be when I have to make a hard decision. Yesterday, I was the murderer."

Sumner frowned at her words. "The Wraith?"

The brunette gave him an irritated look. "No, fuck the Wraith, I don't feel any remorse for killin' that piece of crap. I feel bad for wasting time and putting my team in danger like you said, Colonel, but not for the Wraith. It was the girl; it was about me askin' that fuckin' Wraith to _let_ me kill the girl."

"'To put her out of her misery' is what was reported," Sumner stated. "Calling that 'murder' is a pretty big grey area even back on Earth under ordinary circumstances. And by stabbing her with the kris, you were able to save her life _and_ heal her," Sumner pointed out.

"But I didn't _know_ if it'd work, Colonel. We haven't exactly had a lot of Wraith to experiment on and we have no idea how the process even works. So when I asked that Wraith to let me kill the girl to show her mercy, I meant every fucking word. And I _hate_ that," Faith said. "Grey area or not, Slayers aren't supposed to kill innocents."

Sumner put his fingers together and considered the young woman in front of him. He pursed his lips and said, almost gently, "the promise?"

"I just told you—"

"Not that," the Marine corrected, almost gently. "What promise did you break?"

Faith grimaced. "I went to Sunnydale after my guardian died because I knew Buffy was there and I figured, who else could I fuckin' rely on but another Slayer? Things were okay for a little while...but it didn't stay that way. One shitty thing after another began to put me at odds with B and everyone else. But then I killed the Deputy Mayor of Sunnydale.

"It was an accident. I was in a fight with B and the guy decides to jump in because he wanted to talk to us. B threw him toward me to get him out of the way, but I didn't realize he was human until I'd already killed him. It _was_ an accident, but it was the moment that I made the decision that staying 'bad' would be preferable to admitting that I fucked up.

"So there I was: a murderer, at odds with Buffy, living in a shitty motel, no income, and had nothing going for myself but being a Slayer. I could only think of one person I could turn to, one person that would have me. I didn't know him for all that long, but for the time I did, he was about the closest thing to a father that I'd ever had. His name was Richard, Richard Wilkins, and he was the Mayor of Sunnydale."

 _Sunnydale...it always comes back to Sunnydale_ , the colonel mused and then blinked. "The _Mayor_ of Sunnydale took you in?"

Faith nodded. "Sunnydale being Sunnydale, it wasn't much of a shocker when he turned out to be Evil. But black hat or no, he was good to me: he was kind, put a damn roof over my head that wasn't covered in water spots and mold, made me think I could live a happy life, even if it wasn't on the up-and-up. As a Slayer, he was the kind of person I should have been fighting against, but instead I joined him. I wanted his approval, so I did what he wanted, and he cared for me in return.""

The Marine tapped his finger against his chin for a few brief moments. "One of the things he wanted you to do was to kill that professor, the volcano expert," Sumner inferred.

"Professor Worth stumbled onto something that the Mayor wanted to keep buried," Faith explained, nodding in confirmation. "So I iced the professor and kinda went off the deep end; I wasn't much of a good person by then, but I was a Slayer and what I did was...anathema. I lost something inside of me that took a long time for me to find again, that I'm _still_ trying to find."

"The situations between the girl and the professor aren't exactly comparable, Faith," Sumner began, but Faith interrupted him.

"I know, believe me, I know. But walking up to that smug little Wraith, staring him in the eye while I buried my knife in that girl's gut, it sure as shit felt like it. That's why I flipped out."

Sumner straightened in his seat and laid his palms flat on the table. "You need to deal with this, Faith. The type of situation you were in could easily happen again and I am not willing to send you out that Stargate knowing you could 'flip out' again."

"You want me to see a shrink?" Faith asked dubiously.

"Heightmeyer is reputed to be an excellent psychologist, but no. Faith, you need to sort your shit out and I don't care how you do it. You'll be spending the next month, _minimum_ , here on Atlantis. Use your time here to work it out and we'll talk then," Sumner told her.

"You got it, Colonel," Faith murmured.

"You and I are to meet Drs. McKay, Weir, and Beckett in the brig when we're done here. We'd like you to be be present when we first speak to the Wraith, because you're the only one who's actually spoken with him." Sumner asked. "Weir will be assigning you duties when we're finished."

"Got it," Faith agreed.

* * *

 **Unknown Date  
** _Genii Homeworld_

"A good find, then?" Cowen asked the man at his side.

"A very good find," the Genii commander affirmed with no small amount of satisfaction, nodding towards the crates of materials being carried from the Stargate. "However, no matter how useful or promising the materials might be, Cowen, we should spend as little time as possible on that planet. We cannot risk the Wraith finding us pilfering technology from their ship."

"Commander, you're telling me nothing I don't already know," Cowen said sternly. The Genii chief opened his mouth to say something but paused and glanced at the man beside him for a long moment. "Ladon believes that, so long as our Wraith cooperates, that we could have a working prototype within two months."

"Ladon Radim is a man who is willing to _imagine_ a great many things," the man replied, still watching the men under his command efficiently organize Stargate. "However, I do understand that his imagination is a vital component of his brilliance. He truly believes it? So soon?"

"Whatever you feel about the man, Commander, Ladon Radim is not a man to declare such a thing idly," the higher ranking officer stated lightly. "It's the Wraith that concerns me."

The man raised an eyebrow at the Genii leader. "He'll cooperate or he'll starve; everyone has a breaking point or a weakness and for the Wraith, it's their hunger. It's their hunger that drives them and it's their hunger that can break them. He will do as we say."

"You plan to tame our Wraith, Acastus?" Cowen asked with a chuckle.

"Do not forget what he is, Cowen. Don't ever forget that he is no pet, no slave to dismiss so easily."

Cowen lost his smile. "I am Genii, Commander, that is one thing I can _never_ forget," the curly-haired man replied.

They stood together in silence, watching the last of the man's troops walk out of the Stargate with a wheeled cart full of crystals and Wraith materials and instruments.

"Ladon believes we can construct a ship with these materials?" the man asked skeptically. "A ship that can take us to Atlantis?"

"He believes it," Cowen replied. "There are many obstacles we can bypass with the parts we receive from the crashed ship. But the ship itself isn't the problem, Commander, or at least not the entirety of the problem. The difficulty also lies in the means of _getting_ there. That is where the Wraith comes in. After that, only developing a viable strategy to take or raid Atlantis remains, but that I'll be leaving in your capable hands."

The man nodded thoughtfully. "It will not be easy and we cannot do this by brute force, Cowen. Whether we possess a ship that can reach Atlantis or not, they have access to superior technology and superior weapons; success will have to rely on surprise and subterfuge."

"That I'll leave up to you, Commander. We just need two things: time and opportunity."

* * *

 **January 22nd, 2006  
** _Atlantis_

Faith wasn't sure what she felt as she followed Col. Sumner into the closet-like transporter. She certainly harbored no ill feelings toward him or anyone else that had been party to the decision to keep her on Atlantis, but the idea of 'dealing' with her problems seemed...unpleasant. She supposed that in itself was a sign that she _did_ need to 'deal with it' somehow. Faith continued to ponder the quandary she found herself in as she and the colonel were transported to another part of Atlantis. The colonel remained silent, leaving her alone with her thoughts until they were close to what was presumably Atlantis's brig.

It was then that the gruff colonel put a gentle, yet firm hand on her shoulder to catch her attention. The older man waited for her to meet his eyes before he asked in a quiet voice, "are you up to this?"

"Yep," she said simply, unwilling to look away from his penetrating stare.

Sumner gazed at her for a moment before he nodded sharply. He then straightened his black-accented Atlantis uniform and led the way at a brisk walk, his combat boots making a sharp tap on the floor with every step.

They quickly covered the remaining distance to the entrance of the brig, guarded by two Marines with unslung carbines. They stepped to the side and saluted the colonel, who returned the salute and gestured to the door. One of the Marines palmed it open for them and Faith followed Col. Sumner into the darkness that lay within.

There were another pair of Marines guarding the entrance from the inside, both looking alert and ready. In the middle of the room was a brightly lit cell in which the Wraith she'd captured sat quietly, eyes closed and breathing steady. His dislocated joints had been set and his other wounds healed, Faith noted, and looked to be in relatively good condition. The cell itself was...odd.

"Horizontal bars," Faith murmured, "that's new." _Especially to an aficionado like myself_ , she added silently with a touch of embittered bemusement.

"It doesn't much matter which way they're oriented when there's an energy shield around the cell," Sumner explained.

Faith nodded.

They walked around the rectangular cell until they joined McKay, Beckett, and Weir who all stood in silence, watching the Wraith intently.

"Sup dudes," Faith greeted them in a voice that seemed unnaturally loud in the hushed confines of the room.

McKay jumped in surprise at the sudden noise. He might also have made a small "eep" sound, but it was hard to be sure. Beckett just waved her a 'hello' while Weir rolled her eyes at Faith's obvious attempts to annoy McKay.

"So what's the plan?" the brunette Slayer asked, glancing between them and the Wraith.

After casting Faith an aggrieved look, McKay grimaced in response to her question. "We've tried asking him several questions, but he's been annoyingly tight-lipped."

Weir nodded her agreement.

"I wonder if he's getting hungry," Faith commented mildly.

The Wraith's eyes opened at that.

"Heh, thought that might get your attention," Faith commented, her eyes fixed on the Wraith. "Everyone has a weakness, Dr. McKay, everyone and everything can break. For some, pain, for others it might be the fear of losin' a friend, or thirst, powerlessness; everyone can break, McKay. But for the Wraith, a species that needs to feed on _life_ in order to _live,_ can't you just imagine how terrifyin' it would be to feel hunger while locked inside a cage?"

The Wraith stood up and walked to the edge of the cell, staring intently at her.

Faith walked closer to the cell and stared back.

"Ah, hadn't really thought of that," McKay murmured, sounding somewhat put-off about the fact.

"Lass, sometimes I forget that in that wee frame of yours, exists a remarkable capacity for violence," Beckett stated dryly.

"Unfortunately, the moment she opens her mouth is when we're disabused of our illusions of her being a gentle spirit," McKay said, eyeing her with a raised eyebrow.

"I can be gentle and delicate and shit," Faith defended herself, still looking at the Wraith.

A chorus of snorts met her exclamation.

Faith huffed and walked closer to the cell, observing the Wraith who continued to give her the same regard.

"Any of y'all ever meet a junkie?" Faith asked suddenly, then answered her own question. "Bet the Wraith aren't really all that different. Ask a junkie what he needs, how much he's willing to give up for it, ask him what, beyond anythin' else, is needed for him to feel alive...bet it ain't all that different for the Wraith. The Wraith are just a little more upfront about the whole thing and won't steal from their mommas just to score a gram of coke."

"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine," McKay snarked.

Faith shrugged and walked even closer to the Wraith until she was less than a foot away from him, separated only by the cell and the shield. He had more than half a foot on her in height but he was surprisingly slim. Pale skin, white hair and an odd tattoo that began at his eye and continued down the side of his neck and to his shoulder. He wore the odd leather-looking jerkin, tunic, and pants that most of the unmasked Wraith seemed to favor.

"Hello," she greeted him with a sweet smile, "my name is Faith."

The Wraith straightened and growled out, "Slayer."

"That too," Faith agreed. "What's your name?"

The Wraith stepped back, his face turning bland.

"If you don't tell me, I'll come up with one that's extremely irritating," she warned in a singsong voice.

"You killed my men," the Wraith snarled.

"To be fair," Faith pointed out in a reasonable tone, "they got in my way."

The Wraith narrowed his eyes. "You may be a fierce warrior, Slayer, but the Wraith are awake once again. They know Atlantis has been found by the humans and that those who occupy it are responsible for the deaths of the Keeper and many others of our kind. You may fight and even kill many of us, but all of humanity will pay the price until this city is destroyed and you yourselves are made to feed our hunger."

"Is there no alternative?" Dr. Weir asked, coming to stand beside Faith. "There must be many things our peoples can learn from one another, can't the possibility of peace exist?"

Faith winced as the Wraith barked out a laugh. "Do humans bargain with the berries they pluck? Do they negotiate with the livestock they prepare to butcher? You are kine."

"Maj. Sheppard suggested the name 'Burt'," Beckett said after a long moment of silence, "he also expressed his liking for 'Ernie'."

Faith's lips quirked.

"You know, I kinda like the sound of that," Sumner nodded, the smile evident in his eyes only. After a moment, he added in a low voice, "but if any of you tell him that, I'll make you disappear."

McKay snickered.

Weir's lips were tight as she considered their prisoner before turning to the colonel and nodding towards the exit. The Marine then motioned for Faith to accompany him. Faith obeyed, but before any of the three left, 'Burt's' voice echoed in the room

"The Wraith will come for me and when they do—"

Faith wanted to respond, but let herself be guided out of the brig until she stood with Weir and Sumner.

"Thank you for coming, Faith. You've been the only one who's managed to stir...Burt's interest so far," Weir said with a grateful smile.

"I don't expect that'll last," Sumner stated, "he won't be loose lipped, but once a prisoner starts talking, it's usually not hard to make them do it again."

"Burt says that the Wraith are awake now, all of them," Faith reminded them, looking at them both.

"That would correspond with some of Sheppard's report as well," Sumner stated and then turned to give Dr. Weir a raised eyebrow.

Weir scowled at him. "Even Teyla didn't know the truth about the Genii, Colonel, it's not Sheppard's fault!" Weir paused. "Mostly."

Sumner's lips seemed to develop an odd tic that almost looked like a grin, but it was hard to tell.

"I'm missing something," Faith said somewhat lamely.

"Ask Sheppard," Weir and Sumner said simultaneously.

"Wow," Faith said, almost stepping back at the force of their words. "What did he do this time?"

Sumner's lips were definitely inching toward a full grin.

Weir huffed. "Faith, come with me and I'll show you some of your new duties around Atlantis."

* * *

 _Faith stood in the midst of a raging tempest, body drenched and frozen from the pouring rain and the howling wind. She was nearly deafened by the boom of thunder and nearly blinded from the lightning strikes that seemed to manifest just inches away from her. Even from the central tower of Atlantis, she could see the rising waves, swells of dark water that crashed against the city in regular intervals. Far in the distance and along the horizon, she thought she could see a strange shape that seemed to be moving._

 _The sky was dark, as dark as the night, and filled with roiling storm clouds that held no promise of reprieve. The clouds were dark, pregnant with what was sure to be more freezing rain, and were turbulent in the way storm clouds often were, looking as though they were preparing to unleash a fresh onslaught of rain, hail, and lightning. She could hear the boom of thunder again, the peal of sound followed by the flash of light that made her flinch. Another boom, closer this time, much closer. Except...thunder doesn't come before lightning... No, it wasn't thunder, not when it sounded like it came from the inside. What was it?_

 _She would have looked back but the movement on the horizon caught her eye again. Even facing the icy rain, the roaring, powerful winds, and the harsh strobe light-like effects of the endless lightning strikes against Atlantis's spires, she felt a desperate need to understand what it was she could only just barely see. Brushing the water from her face, Faith squinted into the distance and realized with dawning horror that the movement on the horizon was in fact the water itself. More accurately, it was a wall of water. It looked small at this distance, but that she could see it at all meant that it'd be massive, massive enough to swallow the unshielded city, perhaps._

 _Faith shivered, not from the frigid chill of the wind that plastered her sodden clothing to her small, freezing frame, but because of the discovery of what was approaching her and the city that was now her home. The clap of thunder rang in her ears as lightning flashed in her vision. Except...some of that thunder was rapid, regular and again...sounded like it came from the inside of the central tower. Faith's brow furrowed and she turned from the violent storm that raged outside to see what it was that raged inside._

 _Walking back inside, she quickly turned around the corner and almost immediately stumbled to a halt. At her feet were the bodies of two Atlantis soldiers that she'd seen but hadn't ever been introduced to. The soldiers had bullet wounds in their chests, she realized. How would they have gotten shot all the way out here and who would have shot them? She frowned at the bodies and looked up. An immediate scan of her surroundings revealed that she was far from the veranda she'd just stood upon on the west pier, but was instead in the Gate room. How had she gotten here?_

 _She heard the boom of thunder, a loud cracking sound that sounded like it should have shattered the glass in the room. In front of her, another faceless Atlantis expedition Marine suddenly appeared, only to collapse onto the ground as a growing stain of red blossomed upon his chest. She quickly looked up, searching for the one responsible for her comrade's death. A whisper of sound caught her attention and she spun around, catching sight of a man with a harsh, lined face that was covered by a green patrol cap. The man wore an unfamiliar green uniform with brown piping and stood just a scant distance from her. A pistol, unfamiliar in its design but unmistakable in its purpose, was held inches away from her face._

 _The city trembled around her, at the force of the wind, the lightning battering its towers, and the waves crashing into the city's piers. Though her eyes never wavered from the man, her senses had become focused on the city around her and she could hear... She could hear the roar of the incoming wave that drew nearer and nearer. The man's eyes were fixed upon her own, eyes that held no regard for the lives he'd taken but were instead filled with an uncompromising willingness to do whatever he had to in order to accomplish his goals._

 _The man might have spoken to her, but the howl of the incoming storm surge that threatened to drag them down into the sea like some ancient leviathan made it impossible to understand him. Yet even as the storm raged outside and the wall of water that sought to unmake them grew ever nearer, Faith refused to look away from him. But as she gazed into those pitiless eyes of his, Faith wasn't sure if it was the storm that raged outside or the emotions writ large upon his face that chilled the air more._

#

 **January 30th, 2006**

Faith gasped as she jerked awake, hand to her chest as she tried to understand what had just happened.

"Faith?" a sleepy feminine voice asked from beside her.

Faith continued to pant, eyes tightly closed as she desperately tried to refocus her mind and calm her frenetically beating heart.

Buffy sat up, sheets pooling to her waist as she forced Faith to look at her. "Faith? What's wrong?"

"I'm pretty sure, Buffy," Faith managed between gasps, "that I've had the first Slayer dream in this galaxy."

"Oh," Buffy murmured and then narrowed her eyes. "Did you see the cheese guy?"

"I saw the...what? Cheese guy? What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Buffy said quickly, then paused. "You called me Buffy! And we weren't even having sex!"

Faith flicked the blonde's nose. "B, focus here."

Buffy yawned while she rubbed her eyes, her body obviously rebelling against its premature awakening. "You've never had a Slayer dream before, right?"

Faith shook her head. "The ones I had with you which, by the way, what the fuck? and then a couple I had when I woke up from the coma."

Buffy quirked her lips and raised an eyebrow. "I won't ask about the after-coma ones, pretty sure they won't be anything of the good. But...you do know they can be cryptic, metaphorical, and sometimes things you'll see are only possibilities or representations—"

"Outside it was freezing, raining, windy, all of which I _felt_ , and there were storm surges, lightning, thunder, and a wave of water tall enough to flood Atlantis," Faith interrupted. "And then _inside,_ three of our people were dead from bullet wounds while another douchebag-looking individual pointed a gun at me."

"—and sometimes not," Buffy finished. "Or maybe the storm _is_ the bad guys with guns?"

"Except I didn't see anyone else around. Just our three people, like it was abandoned. You know, like we'd abandon it if Atlantis were about to get bent over by a nice, giant tidal wave and get fucked," Faith answered sardonically.

Buffy wrinkled her nose at Faith's colorful description but remained quiet for a moment. "So what do you want to do about it?"

"Go back to sleep," Faith answered. "Tell Sumner and check the weather forecast in the morning."

"Alright," Buffy said with a slow nod, but continued to look intently at Faith.

"What?" Faith asked as Buffy continued to stare at her.

"I'm uh...not that tired anymore," Buffy said, as if imparting some great secret, "and you're all sweaty."

Faith blinked. The brunette peered at Buffy for a moment until she noticed Buffy's eyes weren't meeting hers. They weren't meeting hers, she realized with a small smile, because Buffy was staring at her chest.

"B...I just had a crazy-ass, freaky dream and here you are ogling my tits," she accused. "I'm feeling very vulnerable right now."

Buffy snorted and laughed until she finally shrugged in admission. When she did finally meet her eyes, she did so with an expression that was all heat and sex. "Then I'll just have to make you feel better."

Faith wavered for a moment before letting out a breath and smiling back. "Well, if you insist, I suppose I—"

Faith let out an 'oomph' as she was tackled from the bed and onto the floor by a blur of golden hair and naked flesh. They kissed each other with a franticness that Faith lost herself in, rolling across the floor with Buffy as they fought to be on top. Faith, feeling too drained by the dream, eventually capitulated and found herself pinned beneath the other Slayer.

"Hold still," Buffy warned her, biting at her jawline to underscore her point.

"As you wish," Faith murmured.

But even after Buffy had spent no small amount of time 'making her feel better', Faith still struggled to forget the sensation of the lashing winds and the stinging, cold rain as they curled around one another. Fortunately, enveloped within the arms of her lover, when she eventually surrendered herself to sleep, it was to one that was dreamless.

Well, aside from a dream that included a man wearing cheese on his face, that is.

* * *

 **January 31st, 2006**

"Col. Sumner?"

Sumner looked over his shoulder to see an anxious looking brunette wearing a white wife beater and the signature dark grey pants of the Atlantis expedition's uniform. He bit back the reflexive urge to demand why she wasn't in full uniform and instead asked in a neutral voice, "Faith, aren't you supposed to be working for Dr. Beckett as his candy striper this morning?"

Faith scowled at him. "I will be, just as soon as I'm done here."

Sumner's raised a brow at the brunette, only now taking note of the dark bags under her eyes and her tense posture. "Alright, Faith, whatever you need, make it quick. Drs. Weir, Zelenka, McKay, Kavanagh, and Grodin are planning on having a meeting that I'll be sitting on."

"My condolences, Colonel. But...I do need to talk to you about something."

Sumner chuckled and waved her on. "Go ahead."

"When B and I were telling you and the other two about Slayers...well you know how we kinda mentioned visions?"

Col. Sumner's lips tightened. It had been patently obvious to all who were "in the know" that he did _not_ particularly enjoy talking or even thinking about what Faith and Buffy had revealed about their being Slayers. That they revealed only _some_ of the details of their purpose grated on his nerves as well, which was only heightened by the realization that he wouldn't mind being _kept_ ignorant. The idea that these two young women were chosen, as teenagers, by higher powers to become warriors against "monsters", while apparently receiving the occasional vision and prophecy, was just...wrong. Therefore, he avoided thinking about it whenever possible.

Marshall Sumner cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes. Because you're asking, I'll assume either you or Buffy have experienced such an...occurrence."

Faith nodded. "Last night, I had this dream when I fell asleep. Um, to break it down, Atlantis was mostly abandoned, there was a badass storm outside and a giant tidal wave taller than a freakin' skyscraper on its way to give us a smackdown. Inside, I saw three of your men dead with bullet wounds and a man I've never seen before pointing a pistol at me."

The colonel's eyes widened and he leaned back, giving her his undivided attention. "Are you sure this wasn't just a dream?"

Faith glared at him. "You ever have a dream where you could feel the wind and the freezing rain plastering your clothes to your body? Where the smell of blood and gunsmoke filled your senses? Where the thunder was so loud, you thought you'd go deaf? Dreams are dreams, Colonel, and we all get them. Visions...they're a little more below the belt when you get hit by them."

Sumner winced at the Slayer's bluntness. "Your...visions, do they tend to be metaphorical?"

"Sometimes," Faith admitted, "but if we're getting visions, it usually means something bad is about to go down. They may not tell us everything and sometimes they can be cryptic, but we can usually get a good bead on what's sneakin' up on us. Besides, it's a little hard to be metaphorical about pistols and bullet wounds, I think."

The colonel gazed at her for a moment before he looked down at his watch. "Alright, you gave me the summary, tell me what else I need to know."

Faith complied, speaking quickly but clearly.

"Any indication on when these events might occur?"

Faith shook her head. "The only thing I'd be able to use as a reference would be the weather. A storm like the one I saw? Ain't nothing like any storm on Earth that I've ever heard of. Maybe it wasn't natural, or maybe it was natural to this planet, I don't know."

Sumner took his tablet out and began tapping into it. "I'll ask Weir to put someone on weather forecasting." The man sighed for a moment, before he glanced back up at her. "From what I understand, this city is relatively fragile without its shield, especially when compared to other known Ancient structures, a storm like the one you're describing might be more than enough to sink Atlantis for good."

Faith nodded. "And we have no power to raise the shield."

"Or move the city," Sumner agreed, "but the unfamiliar man you referred to and seeing our own people shot, that's another matter entirely and one that complicates the first problem even more."

"What do you mean?" the brunette Slayer asked, blinking in confusion.

"I cannot recommend to Dr. Weir that we follow your vision by rote, Faith. Doing so would create the sort of tunnel vision that would limit the effective planning of contingencies. However, there are elements to what you've described that seem intrinsically connected. You described Atlantis as being abandoned, with the exception being that of the few men under my command who'd been shot. Now, _if_ there is such a storm coming, it would be a reasonable and natural precaution to have most of our personnel evacuated. The only reason I would leave _any_ of my men behind would be if there was still a chance to save the city. Leaving too many behind would run the risk of them being unable to escape via the Stargate, if whatever plan to save the city failed."

Faith slowly nodded her understanding. "So if we have no sure way of protecting the city from the storm, we can't afford to leave a large garrison here. If Atlantis sinks and the expedition is evacuated, it'll need your Marines to survive."

"That brings us to the unknown man and my dead soldiers," the colonel said, jaw set in a firm line. "Aside from the Wraith, we've only run into one people that would have the inclination and resources to attempt taking Atlantis."

"The Genii," Faith answered. "Not hard to guess. That whole thing was a pretty good cock up."

"The Genii," the older man affirmed. "They're proud, resourceful, and they've managed to develop a damned impressive society given the conditions of this galaxy. It'd be easy to blame Maj. Sheppard for his handling of the situation or Teyla for the bad intel and the snafu on the Wraith ship, but I doubt anybody else could've managed any better. Plus, Sheppard _did_ get that intel about the Wraith to corroborate with what our friend Burt said."

"So, if we're evacuating Atlantis because of the storm, they come in and do...what? Kill some of our men, but for what?"

The colonel shook his head. "Likely to take Atlantis or to steal what's here, but guessing their intentions will lead us nowhere, deal with the facts. If what you saw is literal, then they will attack us when we're weak, when we're weak and unable to do anything about it."

"That would mean either they caused the storm, which is a whole bag of not good in itself, or they somehow found out about it _and_ learned that we're evacuating," Faith pointed out. "Ounce of prevention and all that, if we figure out how they find out, we can nip this in the bud pretty quick."

"If we can, absolutely. In the meantime, however, we need to focus on three objectives. One, we need to plan for the long-term survival of this expedition if Atlantis drowns. Two, determine if there is a way to save Atlantis. Three, make sure this city stays in our control."

"Well, you know you have at least two assets to help you out on numero dos and tres," Faith said brightly.

"Hm?"

"Illyria and I. You won't find a better person, so to speak, to work with Ancient tech than Illyria, plus she's really fuckin' good at making things dead." Faith began buffing her nails on her shirt and as she spoke breezily, "and I...well, I've been known to enjoy a good fight now and again."

Sumner's lips twitched. "Not entirely sure I enjoy the idea of letting Illyria out to play, but I can't argue with your reasoning." He paused for a moment and then asked, "you didn't mention Miss Summers, is there a reason?"

Faith winced and visibly squirmed. "I'm not ruling her out, but...well, she's killed humans before, but always in the line of duty, um, you know what I mean? If we're here, knowing there are people coming, people who probably aren't really bad and are just following orders. Orders from people who probably aren't all that bad either and just want to keep their people safe... I think it could fuck with her."

Sumner gazed at her for a second and huffed out a laugh. "Seems ridiculous until I remember your usual customers are a little different than mine. Makes things a little more black and white for you, doesn't it?"

Faith nodded. "Most of the time it's a pretty clear cut line, but you'd be surprised how often humans can out-monster the monsters. B was always more careful about watching that line than I was, but she's become a lot more...practical than she used to be."

"She'd be defending her home," the Marine pointed out.

"A point I'll be sure to mention," Faith assured him.

"Well I'll think it over and bring it up to Dr. Weir, see if we can draw up some preliminary plans," Sumner declared thoughtfully. "Hopefully, none of this will even come to pass, but if it does, you might have just saved a lot of people."

Faith blushed slightly before getting distracted by the noise from outside the door.

Aforementioned door slid open, allowing the shouting and cursing that had been barely audible to blast into the small conference room.

"It makes sense Rodney, between the subsystems it's tied to and the translations... And just look at how the control matrix is structured! It is clearly—"

"It is _clearly_ wrong, Radek! Wrong! In the history of wrong that's probably the wrongest wrong thing ever!" McKay shouted as he stomped into the room behind the Czech scientist.

"Hloupý blázne!" Dr. Zelenka growled.

"No! You don't get to do that different language thing!" McKay shouted back.

Sumner sighed.

Faith snorted and patted him on the shoulder. "Have fun."

Sumner gave her a tormented look as she left the room just as the conceited Dr. Kavanagh and extremely irritated looking Peter Grodin and Elizabeth Weir joined the two shouting doctors in the conference room.

* * *

 **Unknown Date  
** _Genii Homeworld_

"Well Ladon, what am I looking at?" the man asked the scientist beside him. As usual, the Genii commander wore his military fatigues and seemed to exude an aura of competency.

The shorter man glanced at him briefly and began to walk around the large oblong metal frame. Two short, stubby protrusions pierced the frame perpendicular to the cylinder, forming an off-centered cross like the hilt of a sword. "Right now, Commander, you're looking at very little. What this might become, however, is something that we might be able to use to travel to other worlds without the aid of a Stargate."

"Something we could use to get to Atlantis?" the man asked, running a finger along one of the metal braces as if to inspect it for dust.

Ladon Radim gave the man an annoyed look. "Perhaps, Commander Kolya, but we'd first have to learn exactly where Atlantis is and how long it would take for this ship to actually reach it. But Commander, whether reaching Atlantis is within its capability or not, just taking the time to learn more about this ship, about the integrated Wraith technology, could give our people the capability to combat the Wraith in a way we never thought possible."

"I couldn't agree more, Ladon, but those who've taken residence in Atlantis have woken the Wraith and we have far less time than either of us would like to ready ourselves. What we can learn from Atlantis is immeasurable compared to your own construction and taking it would grant the Genii the power of the Ancestors themselves. I am not belittling your work, Ladon, but as impressive as this may become, it remains only a small step in our journey. Now tell me of your project?"

The scientist grimaced and continued his slow circle. "We've faced multiple obstacles in the development of this ship, some easier than others to overcome. We're using the same general shape of the Atlantis "Puddle Jumpers", though the physical differences are obvious. We've seen that their pods are capable of automatically extending a wing-like section of the craft which contain, presumably, weapons and their main propulsion system. By simply attaching the fixed sections onto this frame, we avoid the need for that sort of advanced hydraulic system. Adding weapons would also add a level of complexity that would make construction much more difficult."

The man nodded. "It's bigger. Much bigger. It wouldn't be difficult for them to detect, even by eyesight alone."

Ladon nodded. "You're correct, Commander, but unfortunately we lack the capacity to manufacture the kind of systems at a small enough scale to construct a ship any smaller than this. Increasing the size of the ship not only makes the construction easier, but will allow you to increase the size of the force traveling inside it as well."

The man hummed in acknowledgement. "What else can you tell me?"

"There are numerous obstacles that prevent us from not only launching a ship, but also landing one. Those two problems are centered around, but not limited to, sufficient power generation, propulsion, and sustainability," Ladon stated, his demeanor becoming that of a lecturer as he continued to expound the difficulties his project faced.

The Genii commander grimaced. Ladon Radim was unquestionably brilliant, but he was also far too idealistic, tending to consider their future at the expense of the present. He was also a man who would talk endlessly about the details of his work if given the chance. Nevertheless, the man remained silent and gave Radim his attention.

"The first and foremost problem is escaping a planet's gravity well and the subsequent reentry into the atmosphere. This is something we'd likely be able to do ourselves, Commander, but it would be a flimsy construction with no hope of reuse and extremely inefficient in its use of resources," Ladon stated. "It would also be dangerous with a much higher chance of failure than of success, given that we're unable to experiment with the Wraith now actively culling again. Therefore, the simplest solution would be to find a material durable enough to survive launch, space flight, and atmospheric reentry."

The man's eyes narrowed. "The Wraith hull," he inferred, though it sounded more like a statement.

Ladon nodded. "The hulls of their ships are organic, Commander, and with the Wraith's cooperation, we can figure out how to _grow_ a ship's hull."

The man raised an eyebrow at the claim. "But _will_ he cooperate?" the man asked, looking over the shell of the ship in front of him.

Radim let out a breath. "He already has, to an extent. He won't say a word about the technology itself, but he's been willing to apply his knowledge."

"I find that incredibly difficult to believe," the commander said, crossing his arms as he stared at the scientist. "He would not give his aid so easily."

The shorter man shrugged. "He seemed very interested in our project when he heard one of our men murmur "Atlantis" within his hearing."

The man considered Radim for a long moment. "He will try to escape with this ship if he helps you."

"Of course he will," the scientist agreed, "but I had to spark his interest somehow."

"You are far more devious than you let on, Ladon Radim," the man said approvingly.

Ladon smiled briefly. "To be honest, he has little compunction when it comes to...programming the hull, for lack of a better word; the rub lies in the other, more complicated areas we'd require his assistance. Still, if we're able to gain his assistance in solving some of the more difficult problems, he would inadvertently supply the solution to entirely separate problems in the process. For example, with a fast enough method of travel, many of the other inherent obstacles in spaceflight become far more manageable even with our current technology."

"Faster than light," the commander said, tasting the words, "and the power to fuel it."

"Precisely," the scientist agreed. "That, unfortunately, will be more tricky and are the things we absolutely require the Wraith to work with us on. However, Commander, thanks to your men's efforts, we already possess many of the raw materials and components needed to assemble those systems." Ladon let out a breath and pointed toward a cart that contained some of the items recovered from the Wraith ship. "The Wraith use the crystals you acquired to produce energy that fuels their ships, including their FTL system. Their FTL system, Colonel, which should be able to be assembled by the other components I cataloged for your teams to locate."

"So we just need the Wraith to put it all together," the man mused. "If he cooperates, what can we expect out of this craft?"

"I'd estimate the ship will be able to carry approximately 30, but that may vary depending on the length of the journey and the allotment of space required for perishable supplies. Their drive system will also have to be adjusted to fit a ship this much smaller, but that shouldn't be too difficult. But Commander, even with the Wraith's help, a great deal of our own technology is going into this ship. I don't think it'll be able to survive more than one trip."

"It doesn't matter, Ladon. If we have Atlantis, we won't need this ship or the Wraith," the man said, stepping closer and crouching to run a hand over the dark purple, organic-looking substance that was barely visible along the metallic bones of the ship's skeleton.

Ladon huffed out a breath. "As you say, sir."

"When will it be complete?" the man asked, turning to give Ladon Radim his full attention.

"It'll partially depend on the cooperation of the Wraith," Radim replied, "but the hull will be up to specifications within two weeks at its current pace. Most of the gear, including the power source, can be assembled within that time. The power source itself, the connections to the FTL drive, and the FTL drive will be four weeks, minimum. We have a great deal of software to create and adapt to work with this technology, Commander, otherwise we'll have to rely entirely on the Wraith for the ship's operation. That's likely to take the greatest amount of time for this effort."

"How soon, Radim?" the man pressed.

"Six, Commander, six weeks bare minimum. However, I'd much prefer to double or triple that in order to continue our study of the Wraith technology and to verify the safety of this ship's operation."

"We'll call it six weeks," the man declared as he turned to leave the room. "If the Wraith refuses to cooperate, let Cowen or myself know." The man paused and turned around, "Ladon, make sure he doesn't turn this ship into a trap or an escape route or it won't just be the Wraith you'll have to worry about."

#

Ladon Radim nodded his understanding and watched as Commander Kolya left their newly repurposed hanger. He shook his head in frustration, cursing the narrow-mindedness that seemed to plague the upper echelon of the Genii military. The Genii had survived because of their patience and willingness to sacrifice for the betterment of their people, not because of some desperate grab for technology and weapons that hinged upon the intellect of a captured enemy and their own incredibly limited understanding of their technology. He possessed a great amount of self-confidence in himself, and his work, but this plan seemed folly in a way that was completely unlike the machinations of the normally shrewd Cowen and strategically inclined Acastus Kolya.

The new attitude of Cowen and his sycophants that had developed in the wake of the joint attack with the humans of Atlantis against the Wraith seemed incongruous to their normal way. Dangerous. Reckless. Pointless.

He didn't know what had happened on the Wraith ship, didn't know why Sora had developed such a rabid hatred against the other humans, but he knew that the people who hailed from Atlantis had felt just as betrayed as the Genii by the end of the day. They could have been allies, the only humans in the galaxy that possessed technology as advanced as theirs. _More_ advanced if the reports were true and that didn't even factor in their access to the weapons of the Ancestors.

He understood the desire to possess the technology of the Ancestors and even Atlantis itself, but this plan of Cowen and Kolya's was...

Ladon Radim sighed. Dahlia would agree with him, he knew, they always agreed when it came to the things that mattered. There had to be a better way than this. He sighed and finally straightened.

He was Genii and whether he disagreed with the Commander or not, he would do his duty.

* * *

 **February 9th, 2006  
** _Atlantis_

"B? You given it anymore thought?"

Buffy looked up from her stretches on the gym floor to see Faith regarding her carefully. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me what you're thinking," Faith said softly.

Buffy abandoned her position and stood straight to give Faith her attention. "I'm thinking that this vision might not even come true anytime soon and... I'm thinking that if I lose you, I'll be alone again and that if I lose Atlantis, it's even more likely that I'll never see anyone back on Earth again," Buffy said. "What else _is_ there to think about?"

"What I want to know, Buffy, is if you'll be able to look at yourself in the mirror if you shoot some kid who comes here to take Atlantis. If some kid, who has a nice mama who loves him and maybe some sweet girlie he might marry, will be someone you can kill. Can you deal with the thought of that?"

Buffy recoiled from Faith's words, and narrowed her eyes at the brunette. "Or like some old professor who just likes volcanoes?"

Faith flinched and turned away from her. "Fuck you, Buffy."

Buffy sighed and closed the distance between them. "I'm sorry," she murmured apologetically. "Faith, I've dealt with far worse things than this; just because I may not _want_ to kill somebody doesn't mean I _won't_."

"So you'll stay here?" Faith asked, turning back to watch the blonde carefully.

Buffy glared at her. "I'm pretty sure it's been established that we've both grown up since we first met in Sunnydale. I may not want to go all "Death is my gifty" on other humans, but I've done it before and I'll do it again if I have to."

Faith held her gaze before she nodded. The brunette chewed her lips for a moment before she hesitantly said, "you know...even if you aren't in Atlantis, it doesn't mean you can't put yourself in a position to rescue our asses."

"What do you mean?"

"I doubt Sumner would want all his eggs in one basket," Faith shrugged. "Some will evacuate, some will stay here, but it seems like common sense to have a Jumper or two waiting to see what happens."

Buffy nodded slowly. "I'll think about it, I wouldn't mind riding to your rescue."

Faith smirked at her and waggled her eyebrows. "I'll reward you. Now go, you have a mission to go on with Lou and the boys while I have some Athosian ass to kick."

#

"You are not like...the others," Teyla panted, "I thought...you a great warrior at...first, but you...you are more." Teyla gasped and fell to the mat as Faith drove a knee into her stomach.

Faith stepped back and raised a foot off the mat, stepping over Teyla's leg sweep, and retreated a few steps back to give the other woman room to get to her feet. "What makes you say that?" Faith twirled her Bantos rod and held it pointing downwards at her right side.

"You were frustrated when you asked me to spar, but you have not lost control. I have yet to disarm you but I know that you are not even fighting with all of your strength and ability. I might take offense had I not seen you truly fight," Teyla answered, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow with her free hand.

Faith nodded. "I'm something else."

Teyla gave her a measuring look for a long moment before she said in a grave voice, "you are a warrior."

Faith quirked a smile. "So is Sheppard," she countered waggling an eyebrow.

"No," Teyla replied, smiling slightly. "Sheppard is a good man, an honorable one, one skilled in combat, but he is a soldier. You are not a soldier, Faith, you are a fighter, a warrior." She then peered closely at Faith and began to slowly nod to herself as if confirming some inner thought. "Buffy as well. Not just warriors then. You are too strong for your musculature, too skilled with too many weapons to lack any callouses. You are not entirely human...or perhaps more than just human."

Faith narrowed her eyes at the other woman's perceptiveness. "Buffy and I are as human as you are, Tey. Like you, we just got a little something extra."

Teyla blinked in surprise. "I do not understand."

"Next time you get a chance, get Beckett to give you a blood test," Faith suggested, "might be surprised at the results." Faith let the caramel-skinned woman digest that for a few seconds before taking several quick steps forward and sweeping up her rod in a blur of movement.

Teyla managed to block the rod with her own downward swipe before attempting to elbow Faith in the sternum. In response, Faith slapped Teyla's rod to the side and backhanded her lightly in the face. Teyla fell back a few steps before spinning around and recovering. The Athosian feinted a strike to her left arm with the rod and landed a kick to Faith's right side instead.

Faith grabbed the offending leg and yanked it toward her. Teyla yelped as she found herself being pulled toward her opponent until the awkward angle forced her to hop just to stay on her feet. Teyla lashed out with the rod only for it to be torn from her grasp at the force of Faith's parry. Faith allowed Teyla to free her leg but immediately attacked, landing several light hits against Teyla's stomach and chest before slapping the other woman with an open palm.

Teyla blinked at Faith's strike and let out a grunt of surprise as Faith pulled Teyla's elbow to her. Faith quickly sidled in behind the woman and hooked her arm around Teyla's and took a mule kick in the thigh for her efforts. Faith cursed, slapped at Teyla's thigh with her rod and had to lean to the side to avoid having a similar kick to her other leg.

Faith quickly slid the rod into the band of her gym pants and wrapped her arm around Teyla's other arm so that both of her arms were hooked beneath Teyla's armpits. Her hands then clamped together over the back of the Athosian's neck. Faith felt the Athosian's considerable strength as she tried to escape the full-nelson, but Faith remained implacable. She used her leg to tilt Teyla off balance so that both women collapsed onto their knees. There, Faith held Teyla, locked in a hold the woman found impossible to break free of.

After a minute of struggling, Teyla finally accepted defeat. She gasped out, "I yield."

Faith let go instantly, letting the other woman stretch her arms and neck for relief, still panting from their sparring match.

"That," the Athosian conceded, "was a very interesting move. Will you show it to me? I believe Sheppard would be easily subdued with such a move."

"Sure," Faith agreed easily, "Sheppard is a surprisingly good fighter, not as much as you, but definitely one of the better ones in Atlantis, might be tricky getting close enough to pull it off." Then Faith snorted, "then again, Sheppard _does_ have a weakness for pretty women. I'm betting if you can get close enough, those tits and that ass of yours might make it comically unfair to the poor boy." Faith spelled out her meaning by cupping her own breasts and patting her rear.

Teyla's eyes widened and danced with merriment. "You are very...outspoken."

Faith nodded cheerfully. "Refreshing, isn't it?"

The Athosian considered it for a moment. "I believe it is," she said, smiling warmly. "I also believe, that I have succeeded in my task; you are no longer quite so frustrated."

"No, not anymore," Faith agreed. "Thank you."

Teyla nodded. "Faith..." Teyla hesitated, "the blood test. You inferred that..."

"Didn't infer, Tey. You got just a little nonhuman somethin' in you; do what you want with that information."

The other woman nodded slowly, eyes troubled. "I may ask you more later, but I feel that I should, as Sheppard says, 'take a breather' from our session."

Faith nodded and bumped her friend's shoulder. "Thanks Teyla Emmagan. Guess I gotta go ahead and bite the bullet and begin my new duty assignment as Dr. Kavanagh's lab assistant for the day."

The Athosian winced. "I can understand your anger much better now. The man is..."

"A cockbag," Faith supplied helpfully.

Teyla's eyes widened again.

Faith winked and gave the woman a cheeky grin.

"As you say, Faith Lehane," Teyla finally said, a small smile playing along her lips.

* * *

 **February 14th, 2006**

"Bloody hell, what happened to you!?"

Faith looked at Dr. Beckett through bleary eyes and winced at his expression of abject horror. "That bad?" There was a small delay before she asked in a small, tired voice, "coffee?"

"Aye, one might put it that way, I've seen corpses that look as if they might have more life than you," Beckett replied, more amused than worried as he handed the brunette his own mug. "Well?"

Faith grimaced, but took the proffered cup and took a long swallow before handing it back. "It's Valentine's Day," she answered simply.

"What? What do you mean it's—oh!"

"Long night," Faith said smugly, rubbing her eyes.

Beckett blushed. "Oi, I've told you not to say that tosh in front of me!"

The Slayer reached out a hand and pinched Beckett lightly on the cheek. "But you turn this delightful color when we do!"

The Scotsman slapped her hand away. "Behave, Faith, or I'll suggest to Dr. Weir that Rodney requires your services for the day."

Faith looked at the man through narrowed eyes. "You wouldn't."

Beckett smiled at her. "Well, it's not as though we're currently overburdened with patients," the man pointed out, waving to the infirmary's empty beds. "Just so happens I was going to go fishing on the mainland, but if you'd rather—"

Faith's face fell. "Restricted to Atlantis, remember?"

Beckett blew out a breath. "I'll ask Weir about it. I was never told the full story behind your restriction, but I suppose it has something to do with your mission on...what was it—ah! M4S-683?"

Faith nodded. "If you get Weir to give me permission to go with you, I'll tell you about it."

Beckett nodded and thumbed his radio.

#

"I always figured this crap would be boring," Faith murmured beside Carson Beckett. "Turns out I was right."

"You're just not appreciating the finer aspects of the sport, Faith. Fishing? Boring? A common misconception, it is," the man said, eyes tracking his lure. He stood on a small patch of earth that overlooked a large lagoon filled with crystal blue waters. "Surprised Buffy wouldn't want to join you, it being Valentine's Day and all."

Faith shrugged. "Neither the Pegasus galaxy nor the Wraith observe the holiday, unfortunately. She and the rest of AR-3 are backing up AR-1 on M5S-22 something or other. Some weird misty planet that has some weird energy thing that could power a Stargate connection to Earth. Getting some reinforcements and supplies would be pretty bitchin'."

Beckett raised an eyebrow. "Not much fun being left behind, is it?"

The Slayer sighed and glared at the man. After a moment, Faith finally opened her mouth to reply when a sudden tug at her line made her eyes widen, almost comically so. "Oh, shit! Fuck! I got one!"

"Alright, he'll be struggling, lass, so just reel him in gently and—" Beckett stopped speaking as Faith jerked the rod upwards. The movement caused a large fish to erupt from the waters in front of them and fly above their heads until its journey ended with an abrupt meaty 'thud' as it impacted on the ground perhaps 30 feet behind them. Beckett stared at Faith for a moment and then reeled in his line and put both of their fishing rods in a secure location. He then ran with Faith toward the fish to examine her catch.

"So this was the trout thing you were talking about?" Faith asked, looking down at the very, very, dead fish.

"Bloody hell, Faith, this fish has got to be at least 75 lbs! How the hell did you manage _that_?! The line is pretty durable, but you shouldn't have been able to just pull that fish out all willynilly."

Faith winced. "First, let's take care of the fish and then I'll tell you all about it."

"And M4S-683 as well?" Beckett pressed.

"Yeah, that, too," Faith promised with a sigh.

"Alright, then. Let's put this into the cooler if we can; I don't feel like cleaning and gutting the beastie on the mainland if I can help it. Here, help me with this," Beckett said, putting his hands under the fish to lift it.

Faith waved him off. "I got this."

Beckett watched as Faith simply lifted the fish with one hand and put it on top of the cooler. "This is going to be way too big," Faith observed, "do we need the head?"

"You mean what's left of it after its high speed collision with the ground? No, we can do without," Beckett replied wryly. He winced as Faith whipped out a large bowie knife and neatly sliced its newly deformed lump of a head from its body before carefully packing the fish into the cooler and then tossing the head into the nearby water. When she was done, the young woman rinsed the blood from her hands and rejoined him.

"Don't think we'll be able to fit anything else in there," the Slayer said, biting her lip as she nodded to the cooler.

Beckett waved her off. "It isn't the catch that matters, Faith, though with a catch like yours I'm tempted to revise my opinion on that fact," he said with a chuckle. The Scotsman sobered then, giving her a long look. "Are you ready to talk about it now?"

Faith nodded and began to tell Beckett about M4S-683 and about the Wraith. When the doctor remained silent by the end of her story, she let out a breath and made a decision. She told him about Sunnydale and about everything else.

In the following hours, it was Beckett who became her first real confidant on Atlantis. Faith told him the things she'd generally only tell Angel or Buffy. He was an amiable man, an intelligent one, and a man who, by necessity, was willing to believe in the strange. Perhaps Col. Sumner had been right about the need to talk about it, and Beckett's willingness to listen and accept what she said, albeit with no small amount of tentativeness, it appeared as if she'd found the right person.

* * *

 **February 22nd, 2006**

"Radek, tell us what you found," Elizabeth Weir prompted.

The Czech ran a hand through his disheveled, bushy hair. "I don't know what made you ask if there was any repository of Lantean weather patterns, Colonel, but it's a very good thing that you did."

Sumner grimaced. _So much for metaphorical storms, it seems._ He thought sourly.

McKay stepped next to Dr. Zelenka and began his technical examination of the data they'd uncovered. "In the city's database, there was a marked entry regarding extreme weather on Lantea. The entry includes a large amount of recorded data. The data, which only took a brief amount of time to extrapolate thanks to me, ind—."

Radek elbowed the Canadian in the stomach.

"—thanks to _us_ , indicated that the oceans on Lantea become unusually warm every 20 to 30 years. Because there is so little land on this world to inhibit this sort of extreme weather, the developing storm will continue to grow and grow until it covers a massive portion of the planet. According to the data, the conditions of these Lantean storms would make the worst of Earth's hurricanes look like a light evening storm in comparison."

"How bad?" Weir asked, leaning forward.

McKay frowned and Radek pointed to the window. "For how advanced Atlantis is, without the shield the city is incredibly fragile. Storms like these..." Radek shook his head.

"They could very well destroy Atlantis," McKay finished. "The Ancients could raise the shield or submerge the city before, but without power...the wind alone could damage the integrity of the taller structures."

"Do you know when this last happened or when we might expect it to happen again?" Weir questioned again.

Radek and Rodney glanced at each other and held out hands that tipped back and forth.

"Weather forecasting is a tricky business even at the best of times, Dr. Weir, but the temperature of the waters surrounding Atlantis would indicate that we're due for such a storm anytime now," Rodney answered.

"And unfortunately, the water will only be warming up in the coming months. Dr. Weir, Col. Sumner, the next storm could be developing even as we speak," Zelenka added gravely.

"Anything else?" Sumner asked.

The two scientists shook their heads.

"Not on the storm," McKay corrected himself, "but I am working with Radek to figure out a way to generate enough power to raise the shield."

"Before you leave, Doctors, on an unrelated subject I'd like to ask how the translation and decryption of the information we took from the Wraith ship is coming along? I understand its not the priority right now, but its been a month. I was hoping to have seen _something_ by now."

Zelenka frowned. "There was an enormous amount of data that AR-3 pulled, Colonel, it will be some time before the process is complete. Although we did find it odd, and significant, that the Wraith language seems to align closely to that of the Ancients'."

Weir raised an eyebrow. "Did Burt have anything to say about that?"

McKay groaned. "Burt has informed us that he's going on a hunger strike. He's done talking."

"Still, capturing him wasn't a waste of time," Radek stated. "If for no other reason than to be able to an observe a Wraith in a relatively non-threatening situation. Advanced as they are, what we've learned of their social structure from Burt would indicate that each hive is like a matriarchal feudal fiefdom."

Weir and Sumner glanced at one another in wordless conversation.

"Very well, continue to focus on our potential weather problem and let us know what you come up with," Weir said, nodding toward the door, "and you might try enlisting Miss Burkle's assistance on either of the two projects."

The two scientists nodded and left Sumner and Weir alone in the conference room.

"Faith was right then," Sumner said in the following silence. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table, looking nonplussed.

"You doubted her?" Weir asked with a raised eyebrow. She eyes his relaxed posture and decided to mirror it.

The Marine chuckled as the renowned, former ambassador let her shoes rest on the illuminated table. Then he sighed and shrugged. "I hoped she might be wrong, or that we'd have more time. But Faith's...vision, I believe, would suggest this will be happening sooner as opposed to later."

"What do you have planned?" Elizabeth inquired.

"I'll have Bates return to Manaria and work out a deal for a place we can use as a residence, temporary or otherwise in the future," Sumner immediately answered. "There are several other planets that might serve the same purpose that I'll be sending AR-3 to, but because we don't know when this will be happening, it might be tricky to make some sort of agreement. I'll be keeping AR-1 here for now."

"The Genii?"

"I'm not particularly worried about them moving on us now, but I don't want all of our teams out at once. Now that we have the information confirmed, we can work more openly to prepare. AR-1 will be useful in cataloging our military supplies and determining what should be evacuated. Unfortunately, we can only do so much until we actually know when we're going to get hit."

Weir hummed her agreement and tapped a finger on the table. "Faith's month is up," Weir said suddenly. "She's apparently been talking with Dr. Beckett, though I haven't asked for the details. She's entitled to her privacy, of course, and the doctor did consider her fit for duty."

"And?" Sumner asked.

Weir shook her head. "Faith has issues. Hell, her issues have issues. Temper or no temper, her...nature makes her that much more prone to act upon it. Aside from her actions on M4S-683, she's been a model member of the expedition and an extremely useful asset."

"Careful Elizabeth, you're starting to sound like me," Sumner warned with a smile on his eyes. "Then you think I should allow her to rejoin AR-3 and resume off-world operations?" Sumner half guessed, half stated.

Weir tilted her head in thought. "It's ultimately up to you, Marshall, but I do think her forced stay on Atlantis was good for her, and more importantly, I think she'll admit that it was."

Sumner rubbed his face. "I'll consider it."

Weir nodded and enjoyed the ensuing companionable silence until eventually broaching the next topic. "What will we do about our prisoner?"

Sumner grimaced. "I won't bring him with us, that's just too great of a risk to take during an evacuation. We can't just drop him off somewhere either; not after seeing Atlantis and our current defenses. We've gotten some cultural information out of him apparently, but I don't intend to capitulate to his hunger strike." Sumner made a face. "If he's beginning to starve..."

Weir glanced sharply at him and opened her mouth before closing it with a frown. "I don't suppose you have a line of volunteers," Weir murmured.

The older man shook his head. "We don't really have much of a choice but to execute him. We can't risk Burt getting free and it would be even crueler just to let him starve or drown."

Weir's lips twisted in an expression of distaste.

"Not exactly a fan of it myself, Elizabeth, but consider this: every grown-up Wraith you see? That's dozens...maybe hundreds of humans whose lives its fed upon."

"I'm aware of that, Marshall, when will you be...taking care of it?"

"Illyria was happy to volunteer should the occasion arise," Sumner said blandly. "Tomorrow. She promised to make it quick."

Weir raised an eyebrow and, despite herself, felt a small curve appearing along the edge of her lips. "Poor Burt."

* * *

 **February 26th, 2006  
** _Manaria_

"Yes, Sergeant Bates, I quite agree. I hope everything works out, but Manaria will shelter you if the need arises," Smeadon assured the larger, dark-skinned man in Atlantis fatigues.

"Thank you, Councilor. Nothing is certain at this time and this is all precautionary. Like I told you earlier, we'll be putting up makeshift shelters either way just in case things go sour," Bates told him with a gracious nod.

"I quite understand," the Manarian councilor said with a genial smile and shook the other man's proffered hand.

Smeadon gave the man his team some space and continued to observe the humans that had come back to his world asking for shelter. As he watched, a small group of men and women were unloading several small boxes of supplies from the Ancestor-built ship. Hand tools, by their appearances, Smeadon thought.

When the process was complete, five unfamiliar soldiers, men and women, were left behind as Bates's team departed Manaria. The five immediately set forth, moving their supplies closer to the forest, drawing furrows in the dirt and driving pegs into the earth to mark future building sites. Smeadon had to admit, these people who hailed from Atlantis were resourceful, resilient, industrious, and determined.

Nevertheless, he walked back inside and made a beeline back toward the Council Chamber, his next action having been determined the moment Bates had approached him with Atlantis's request. The Manarian Councilor walked around the office until he found what he was looking for. Opening a small compartment, Smeadon removed the small device within and sat down with a sigh. He glanced out the window that provided him with a convenient view of the laboring soldiers and smiled slightly.

He flipped a switch on the small hand-sized device and brought the communicator closer to his mouth. "Relay Station Two, prepare to receive transmission."

The voice that crackled back over the radio was all business. "RS Two awaiting transmission. Over."

Smeadon's smile grew even wider. "I need you to relay a message to Cowen of the Genii. Tell him we have something to trade."

* * *

 **February 26th, 2006  
** Genii _Homeworld_

"Cowen," Commander Acastus Kolya acknowledged neutrally, taking off his patrol cap to acknowledge his superior. Dressed in his uniform, the commander stood in front of Cowen, who sat behind his desk looking annoyingly smug.

"Commander, thanks for coming. I've just received the most interesting news from one of our relay stations," Cowen announced with a smile.

The man raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"One of our sources on Manaria informed us that Atlantis is looking for _possible_ evacuation sites. Our source seemed to think that Atlantis might be in danger from some environmental danger of some kind. Extreme weather of some kind, he overheard one of them say," the frizzy haired man said lightly. "He seems to believe it's a matter of when as opposed to if."

At Cowen's invitation, the commander took a seat opposite the Genii chief and pondered the new information. Settling into the comfortable chair and crossing his legs, Kolya narrowed his eyes as he tried to determine how the information might be used. "How reliable is this source of yours?"

"Implicitly," Cowen answered.

"The humans who have taken Atlantis...they have foreknowledge of some impending danger and are preparing for an evacuation, but have not committed to it entirely?" the man asked. "Hm, I have no doubt that they will try to save the city of the Ancestors, but it _is_ only natural for them to take precautions... If your source's information is correct, then I'd agree with his conclusion, with the caveat that they won't abandon Atlantis until the very end."

"That was my impression as well," the chief agreed. "The unpredictability of this...event means that, even if they are taking precautions now, they'll still be scrambling to coordinate an evacuation, salvaging their equipment, and saving the city when the time comes."

"Meaning the sooner this possible disaster occurs, the less likely it is that they'll be able to save the city and their supplies," the man fell quiet before eyeing the man intently. "Even with flawless timing, Cowen, you might be presenting me with a window of opportunity too small to take advantage of. Do not forget that even if we choose to utilize Radim's vessel and surprise this...Elizabeth Weir and her people, then we'll have to have enough warning to travel there."

"Yes," Cowen acknowledged, then straightened his chair to look him in the eye. "Trying to go through the Stargate, even _if_ we learn the address _and_ find out how to pass their security, seems entirely unfeasible to me. But it won't matter either way unless the ship is complete. That will—"

A knock at the door interrupted him.

"Ah, right on time," Cowen said with a smile. "Enter."

The door opened to reveal an exhausted looking Ladon Radim, clad in his Genii uniform, who gratefully took a seat next to the commander so that they both faced Cowen on the other side of his utilitarian grey desk.

"Ladon, Cowen was just asking about the ship," Kolya told the scientist. "Please, tell us how it's coming along and when you think it might be usable?"

Radim seemed to sink into his seat. "Chief...Commander, we're making great progress but it's only been _four_ weeks. Pushing us to work even harder and faster than we are now will lead to miscalculations and mistakes. I told you six weeks, _minimum."_

"I...see," Cowen said in a calm, neutral voice. "Why don't you tell us what has been accomplished and what remains incomplete."

"Of course," Radim said, running a weary hand through his hair. "The hull was finished on schedule, early in fact. We ran a battery of tests to locate any flaws and found none, but I had the obvious weak points in the frame reinforced with several layers of steel. The team that's been working on interfacing the Wraith technology with our own controls is struggling and will likely set us back a week, at best."

Cowen's lips tightened. "What of the power source and the hyperdrive?"

"The Wraith will only help us to an extent and even that is conditional," Ladon responded.

"How so?" Kolya asked.

Ladon glanced over. "As you recall Commander, he flatly refused to help us until we mentioned Atlantis." At the man's nod, the scientist continued, "he's fought us every step of the way, but he's been willing to help us, for a price."

"What price?" Cowen asked, brows drawn over a disapproving frown.

"He will assemble a single subsystem for every question we answer about the strangers from Atlantis," Ladon replied, visibly frustrated at the fact. "The power source was easy, relatively speaking, to assemble. We only needed his help for a brief amount of time before we could do the rest ourselves."

Cowen's eyebrows shot up. "You were able to construct a Wraith power generator so easily?"

Ladon grimaced. "No. We already had the parts, we just had to assemble them. I wouldn't even know where to begin if we were to actually create one from scratch. The power source isn't the problem, it's the hyperspace generator."

At their unwavering regard, he sighed in resignation. "It'll be done within two weeks, Chief, Commander, somehow I'll have it done."

They both nodded in approval.

"Better get to it, Ladon, we've received news that might make your haste worthwhile," the Genii commander stated softly.

Ladon's eyes widened but he took the hint and quickly left the room to get back to work. He had two weeks to assemble an alien device that would permit FTL travel in a mostly alien ship. _It can't be all that hard, right?_

Ladon Radim silently swore at his superiors.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Oh my god, long chapter. Sorry folks, but I thought I needed the aftermath from last chapter and all the filler material to help connect to the next chapter. I am aware that I haven't touched upon Illyria much in the last few chapters: have no worries gentle readers, she'll be back in all her smurf-like gloriousness.

I'm not really satisfied with how I handled Burt, but I didn't really have much of a plan for him to begin with. There's a lot of things I can do with the intelligence they captured, but Burt is sort of SOL when it comes to a long-term future. So yeah, he's going to get a silent exit. Sorry!

Okay, so you've probably noticed, and maybe became annoyed at, my use of "the man" as a way to refer to Commander Acastus Kolya for most of the chapter. I'm did that for a couple reasons. One is to keep that consistent with the section at the end of last chapter. (Note, I italicized last chapter's Kolya passage to apply a sort of "mysteriousness" and "danger" to Kolya while serving as foreshadowing. Sorry if the formatting was jarring).  
I also wanted to emphasize Kolya's role in the story, in that he was one of main human antagonists that Atlantis faced. The fact that he's _human_ when dealing with the Slayers is what makes the situation even more complex (for Buffy  & Faith), hence the emphasis. Just adding a bit of gravitas is what I'm going for.

 **Recap on SG:A's knowledge of BtVS world** : McKay/Weir/Sumner have been told a lot about Buffy/Faith/Illyria, but much of it has been general information with the details glossed over. They know Illyria is an Old One, but they don't know that she is something humans would call a demon. They might have suspicions, but they haven't been told about the supernatural world. Only Beckett knows all about it (thanks to Faith on their fishing trip).

For those speculating: "As you wish" _was_ a reference to Princess Bride.

 **Czech Translation:** Hloupý blázne! = Stupid fool!  
Again, Google Translator, feel free to correct my usage if you know better.

#

 **Review Answers/Comments:**

 **Guest:** Thank you kindly for the praise _and_ constructive criticism! Regarding your question about Faith disarming in the previous chapter: you're not wrong at all, Faith or Buffy could have, without any doubt, killed the Wraith. The reasons I had her disarm were twofold. One is that no matter how accurate or powerful they are, there's an increasingly fragile girl whose neck is in the hands of a Wraith; her survival would be in question. The second reason is that I really wanted to have Faith beat the crap out of the Wraith for the reasons stated in the end A/N (and later in this chapter).  
You're also right about Buffy's overemphasized inability to navigate, I mostly added it just to inject a bit of humor to give a bit of a breather in between everything else, but I guess I really overplayed. I'll keep an eye on that in the future.  
 **lateVMlover:** Faith may not be Superman, but don't forget that she _is_ superhuman. On the bug planet (reported in previous chapter), Faith was shot 3-4 times and was able to get up within 15 seconds. So her ability to continue fighting isn't really that inconsistent. Her stab wound wasn't really that severe; I didn't specify exactly where the wound was, but she was stabbed under the collarbone, close to the armpit (away from any lungs/bones/etc). We know Slayers get stronger with age (canon) and Faith had been a Slayer for a really short time when she first went up against Buffy. So now it's years later and she's had military training and yeah, she can be a badass.  
Doubting Faith's abilities (in any context, not just this story) on the basis that she was stabbed once in the gut and went instacoma for 8 months is misleading. I'm assuming there's exaggeration there, because there was a whole knock-down, drag-out fight sequence and a multi-story dive off a building that accompany that stab in the gut. Taking one example from the show and using it as the end-all be-all is a terrible idea. For example: One Turok-Han beats the fuck out of Buffy, nearly _killing_ her, and just a few episodes later Faith gets tackled by like half a dozen of them and comes out alright.  
My handling of Buffy seems to be one of the main pieces of criticism I get. I'll be working on that.  
 **HowlnMadHowie:** I've given no reason to suggest that Illyria can read Nox and other human languages (even ancient ones) are just as iffy. Sheppard's interaction with the Genii happened exactly as it did in the show so I'm not entirely sure what you mean about Sumner giving in. I don't really have a firm reason on why I italicized the Kolya section, maybe because I wanted to emphasize the foreshadowing? Or maybe as a way of separating that new side-plot from the rest of the story.


	27. Notice

**— Thor's Slayers —**

 **###**

 **Attention readers!**

 **#**

Attention fans, critics, and all of you readers who keep me going: this is a notice to inform you that Thor's Slayers is going to the back burner. The story has **not** been canceled and I am continuing to work and develop the story, just at a much slower pace. Thor's Slayers has gone a lot further than I had ever intended and I feel like it's sort of run away from me. I believe that the quality of my writing has suffered in my attempt to push the story forward and that same effort has left me somewhat drained and disinterested.

I am going to begin writing a new fanfiction story in the next couple of weeks which will be my primary focus for the foreseeable future. My new story will be a Star Wars AU fic and is titled " _The Will of the Empire_ ". Like any aspiring writer would, I encourage you to be on the look out for the new story and to read my past fanfiction forays. I've always considered Star Wars to be my true passion when it comes to fanfiction and BtVS and Stargate was a sort of experiment for me. Despite my currently ambivalent feelings toward TS, I still view it as a success and plan to write more BtVS fics in the future.

I apologize to all the fans out there who have helped me write Thor's Slayers and I _promise_ that this notice will not actually herald the eventual cancellation of Thor's Slayers. I had already decided that the story will finish at the end of the third part and less than six chapters remain before the final conclusion and I refuse to allow Thor's Slayers to become one of those stories that dies just when the end is in sight. My goal is to have what remains of the story written, edited, and published sometime between April and June.


	28. One Does Not Simply Walk Into Atlantis

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Seven**

 _ **One Does Not Simply Walk Into Atlantis**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I present to you Chapter Seven of Part III of _Thor's Slayers_! I apologize for the delay in releasing the chapter, but as I've stated previously, I found myself in a bit of a rut. I've spent the last month working on my new Star Wars story, _The Will of the Empire,_ which gave me some time off from my BtVS streak to recharge. Be advised that, while I've posted this new chapter, future contributions will remain slow in coming; my current plan is to alternate chapter releases between my two stories and would guess the next chapter of TS will be _at least_ three weeks away. Not only is this because my work with WotE, but because I've been tempted to just wrap this story up in the next chapter or two just to get it over with. That's a crappy attitude to have while writing a story, so I'm giving myself more time to release a chapter that fits with my original story outline.

Hope everyone enjoys!

* * *

#

 **March 9th, 2006  
** _Atlantis_

"I gotta say, Colonel, it's a damn good thing you suggested making regular weather sweeps," Major Sheppard told his superior officer with genuine appreciation. "Being surprised by what we found would've been..."

"Cataclysmic, disastrous, catastrophic—" McKay supplied helpfully, directing a bland smile towards the taller Air Force officer.

"Bad, in other words," Sheppard stated, cutting Rodney off with an elbow to the Canadian's side.

"Radek, Rodney, you've been working on this project for several weeks now, what can you tell us?" Doctor Weir asked.

Radek Zelenka and Rodney McKay glanced at each other from opposite sides of the conference table and shared identical grimaces.

Sheppard's discovery of the fledgling storm developing more than 1,000 miles away had prompted Weir into action. Her call for a meeting had brought the two scientists, Colonel Sumner, of course, but also Major Sheppard, Teyla, Doctor Grodin, and Illyria together at the illuminated table. They had gathered to listen to the discovery of the storm and to discuss their options for saving the expedition and saving the city. Though it had been the AR teams' primary goal since the start, they'd been unable to locate a ZPM or alternative power source for Atlantis and the consequences would be looming over them in a short amount of time.

Weir inwardly cringed at the Old One's presence but was able to keep her face blank whenever their eyes met. Faith had had a point in her debriefing with Marshall Sumner: Illyria was an asset of practically immeasurable benefit. Having her in this room might if nothing else, persuade Illyria that she was highly respected for her knowledge and intellect. In fairness, that respect was genuine, even if she felt like washing her eyes out in the vain hope of forgetting Burt's "quick" death. Illyria certainly had some bizarre fascination with spines that was best left unspoken of.

Elizabeth shook her head of the memory of that particularly gruesome memory and refocused her attention onto the discussion.

"As the colonel had suggested, I attempted to perform some long-term weather forecasting to gauge the extent to which the storm might be a danger. Meteorology has never been one of my stronger skills, so most of my data is supplemented by the database we found," the Czech said unhappily. "There I found some...alarming information about how severe these regularly occurring storms could become. For one, the storm that Maj. Sheppard found might only be the first of several such systems. Data indicates that it was common for several such storms to form and then converge upon one another to create a single massive system."

"As if it weren't bad enough," Maj. Sheppard mumbled.

"Past information indicated that this storm, or storms, might cover a very, very large portion of the planet," the Czech doctor stated with a sigh. He put his notes down and looked at every other person in attendance. "Col. Sumner and Dr. Weir already know, but to give you a better frame of reference, they might cover almost a quarter of the planet."

"25% of the planet?" Sheppard echoed, incredulous. "But even then...how could a storm threaten _Atlantis?_ "

"In the past, it seems that the Ancients would either utilize their shield or submerge the city," Zelenka answered. "Neither of which, as you well know, are currently options for us."

"My god," Peter Grodin murmured as he shook his head.

Sumner remembered Faith's mention of a wave the height of a skyscraper and cringed. Given that Faith seemed to have hit the nail on the head, it would seem that the higher powers that had gifted her with abilities and used her on Earth would continue to do so in the Pegasus galaxy. He honestly wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

"So what a—" Sheppard began, but Elizabeth Weir spoke over him.

"How long do we have?" Peter asked quietly.

"Well it's hard to know for certain," Rodney hedged as he ran a hand over his face. "If it continues in its current direction and speed, it'll pass through the mainland in about a week and Atlantis a few days later. The only way I can get more accurate data is to wait and see how the weather system develops."

"The first thing that all of us should remember," Dr. Weir said, "is that we will prepare, but we will _not_ panic." The former ambassador glared at everyone in the room to underscore her words.

Sumner's lips quirked up and he decided to weigh in. "There are several key elements that we need to be thinking about so that we can act intelligently. The first and foremost objective is to ensure the expedition's long-term survival, with or without Atlantis. Without another Stargate on Lantea, that'll mean moving to another planet. One with a Stargate, one that is viable, and one that preferably has a known, friendly, human population. Teyla, I would welcome and encourage, your people to come with us."

Teyla looked startled at his use of her name but regarded the Colonel with a pleased expression. "I thank you, Colonel Sumner, for the regard you show to my people."

Sumner nodded at her. "Your people have helped ours, Teyla, and that is something that hasn't been forgotten. You are friends to us."

"Wait a minute, we can't just abandon—" Sheppard started, but again, Sumner resumed his summary.

"The secondary objective would be to find a way to save Atlantis. We need power, much more power, and we have yet to find a source that could power the shield for an extended amount of time. So, the key questions are: where can we find the power to raise the shield long enough to weather the storm or are there any other ways to keep Atlantis intact?"

Sumner nodded respectfully towards Weir. "Ma'am?"

Weir gave him a raised eyebrow and a small smile. "Succinct, Colonel, but accurate. All I would add is the necessity to prioritize what we bring with us if or when we evacuate. For now, none of this is to be shared with anyone else until we've laid down the groundwork for an evacuation. Understood?"

The others nodded.

"Radek, Rodney, Fred, I would appreciate it if you three would work on finding a way to save this city," Weir added and looked to Sumner.

"Sergeant Bates and AR-2 have negotiated with the Manarian Council and have secured an evacuation site for our use. Several expedition members are already there working on building shelters, but the rest of AR-2 will be sent through immediately to assist them. Dr. Grodin, I would like you to assemble a group of scientists who specialize in any field that would enable the expedition to survive should Atlantis be destroyed."

At Peter's frown, Weir glanced at Sumner and elaborated. "Experts in flora, fauna, toxins, oceans, any kind of basic engineering knowledge, and agricultural skills."

The doctor nodded his understanding. "Will do," he acknowledged, looking grim but determined in the way he often did.

"Teyla, I want you and AR-1 to work with the Athosians on explaining the danger and helping them to evacuate," Sumner stated. At their acknowledgment, he glanced around the table and continued, "AR-3 will stay on Atlantis and work between the various departments to determine which of our supplies should be evacuated to Manaria and in what order. They'll also work on shuttling those supplies to Manaria once Bates believes the position properly secured."

"Ladies, gentlemen, let's be about it," Weir ordered with a tight-lipped smile.

* * *

"So...saving the city. Alright kids," McKay said in a cheerful tone, "brainstorm session starting...now!"

Illyria turned to stare at him with an unblinking, scornful expression.

McKay ignored the Old One's glare and remained standing in the lab, facing the other two occupants with his hands shoved into his pockets.

Illyria continued to stare at Rodney, a lip curling to form the most perfect display of disdain that Dr. Zelenka had ever been privy to.

Radek coughed at the sudden awkwardness. "Well, as we've said before, it all comes down to power. To save the city, we need to move it, or shield it."

"The ZPM module you found on M7G-677," Illyria began with her customary Texan drawl, nodding to indicate Rodney, "I know it doesn't have a whole lot of power left on it, but could we use it to shelter Atlantis from the worst of it? We could take the children with us so we don't leave 'em high and dry."

Radek raised an eyebrow and turned to Rodney, who in turn gave Illyria a thoughtful look. "I don't think so," he said slowly. "Even if it's able to protect Atlantis from the brunt of the storm surge, it wouldn't be able to maintain the shield against a storm of this magnitude for more than an hour or so."

Radek frowned. "We know the size of the storm will be immense—"

McKay snorted at the understatement.

The Czech glared at him. "Very immense. But I haven't been able to predict how long Atlantis would be threatened by it."

"Too early to tell," Illyria interjected with a frown. "Storms don't always move the way you'd expect them to, but even if we were on the periphery of a weather system like this, the city could be in dangerous conditions for _days_."

"It doesn't matter how long we need the power, not yet at least," Rodney said with an air of solemnity that was atypical of the man, "we just need to find a way to _get_ that power or we are going to lose Atlantis."

Radek, Illyria, and Rodney each glanced at one another and immediately took a seat at the nearest table without saying a word. Eyes fixed upon their laptops or heads bent in muted conversation, the scientists, humans and non-humans alike, worked together to save the city of Atlantis.

* * *

 **March 11th, 2006  
** _Genii Homeworld_

"Is it ready?" Kolya asked, not even bothering to look at the pale, exhausted scientist who stood at his side.

"As ready as it can be, Commander," Ladon replied quietly, also examining at the vessel he'd helped create.

"The Wraith?" Kolya asked, turning a raised eyebrow toward the man.

Radim sighed. "He was under our observation the entire time."

At Kolya's unimpressed expression, Radim elaborated. "We ruled out any interference in the physical construction of the ship, though we did keep a close eye. The more intricate work he 'agreed' to perform was all completed on isolated dummy systems which we examined before loading into our own installed hardware."

"And?"

"We found three hidden sequences that would have been used to send out a coded signal to the other Wraith. One to let the Wraith know where he was, one to let the Wraith know about Atlantis and the last would have sent the coordinates of Atlantis. The first two would have triggered the moment we fully engaged the power, and the last whenever we left hyperspace."

"And you're confident that you've rooted out any other surprises?" Acastus Kolya pressed.

"As confident as I can be, Commander. I'm confident that he believed physically taking the ship to escape would have been impossible. Letting the Wraith know where he was and what he'd found would be the next best thing. My people are still searching the ship and software, but we're fairly confident it's clean at this point."

The commander nodded thoughtfully and stood still for a moment, still looking over the ship. "Have you calculated the amount of time it will take to reach the coordinates I gave you yesterday?"

Ladon Radim nodded. "Seven days, although I could narrow it down to the microsecond if you'd prefer."

Kolya grimaced and shook his head at the offer before rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "If that's the case, then we leave in two days. After exiting hyperspace, we may have to stay in orbit for several more days before taking Atlantis, depending on the planet's conditions. Say...two weeks worth of provisions for each member of our team."

The scientist pursed his lips. Though they'd been able to include a rudimentary sanitary system, it would be a vast understatement to say that the notion of spending that amount of time aboard the ship was unappealing. That being said...one week wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, in fact, it was actually quite good. "My earlier estimate of 30 occupants still stands, Commander."

Kolya raised his eyebrows. "Impressive, Mr. Radim, most impressive. Get some sleep, Ladon, you look like hell."

Ladon didn't even bother to salute the commander as he hurried from the room, his only thought being on the need to lose himself in the comfort of sleep.

* * *

 **March 14th, 2006  
** _Atlantis_

"You feel it, B?" Faith asked quietly. Faith stood with Buffy at her side, gazing off into the horizon from the mess hall's veranda.

"Storm's coming," Buffy answered, just as quietly.

Faith huffed out a breath and glared at the blonde. She then snaked a hand toward Buffy and pinched the blonde's side, making the other Slayer chuckle and squirm away.

"Yes, B, we all know that a storm is comin'," the brunette growled out.

Buffy shrugged, her face growing somber. "But I'm not wrong, just not sure which storm yet"

"One storm is just over the horizon," Faith nodded toward the clouds just starting to manifest in the distance. They weren't storm clouds, not yet, but they both knew it wouldn't be long before those white puffy clouds became darker and would herald something far worse than a little rain. Faith tilted her head back at Buffy. "So, where's the other one?"

"I suppose we'll find out soon," Buffy declared confidently, "and we'll deal with it the way we deal with everything."

"Stakes, style, and sarcasm?" Faith asked, lips quirked.

"Close enough," Buffy affirmed, returning the other girl's smile. "What's the plan for the day?"

Faith scrunched her nose up. Relieved as she was to be back on AR-3, she was, however, less than pleased at their upcoming duty assignment. "Pack up shit to take to Manaria and then help AR-2 on their building sites for the next two days."

"Ugh," Buffy groaned, "close proximity to Bates for that amount of time is definitely not of the good."

Faith nodded sympathetically. "Let's just hope that Blue and the boys will work something out while we're gone."

* * *

 **March 15th, 2006**

"This is isn't working out," Radek declared in a flat voice. Glancing aside, the Czech noticed Miss Burkle studying one of the ferns inside the lab with a startling intensity. Evidently, she found McKay's ongoing efforts to be a waste of time as well.

McKay huffed but ended the current test that had been running on his laptop. "No matter what we try, using the Naquadah generators, even with all of the upgrades we've managed to work out, won't be enough to raise the shield. The nearly depleted ZPM from M7G-677 will allow the shield to be raised, but even supplemented by the generators, won't be enough."

Fred Burkle abandoned her fascination with the flora to join the others at the small workstation they'd set up to run test scenarios. Truth be told, Radek found himself more than a little intimidated by the diminutive, young, woman. Her grasp of Ancient technology was such that her ideas and intellect were the cornerstones for many of the upgrades they'd devised for the Naquadah generators. There was also this look she'd get at times that was...uncomfortable to be the recipient of. Luckily, Rodney was usually the one who'd receive that scornful gaze, but there was still something _other_ about it...

"I told you," Burkle stated simply.

Rodney narrowed his eyes at the Texan. "Well, unless anyone has any other ideas, I think Atlantis is going to sink."

Radek ran a hand through his bushy hair and shook his head. "Ne, to je k ničemu!"

"English," Rodney growled.

"No!" Radek nearly shouted in exasperation. "No, I have no other ideas."

Radek and Rodney turned to Fred, who was staring out the window that overlooked the city.

Rodney cleared his throat.

The young brunette didn't turn around.

Rodney cleared his throat louder.

Radek rolled his eyes and elbowed McKay. "Fred, do you have anything to add to our discussion?"

Fred glanced over her shoulder with a frown on her face. "Well, it isn't like Atlantis needs its shield during every little storm. We've seen our fair share of rain, wind, and lightning strikes, so—"

"The lightning rods!" Radek and Rodney exclaimed in unison.

Fred blinked.

"You are a genius!" Radek shouted, and scrambled around the table to grab Fred by the shoulders. He spun her around to face him, dipped her, and kissed her. He quickly released her and exclaimed, 'brilantní!' before hurrying from the lab.

#

Illyria blinked as she righted herself and watched the human who'd just initiated a prelude to _mating_ exit the lab. _How dare he treat me like some female in heat_ , she thought, outraged. Still... Illyria tilted her head in consideration; it was impressive that he'd managed to catch her unawares _and_ escape reprisal, but in fairness to the muck, she _had_ found him to be one of the more clever apes that infested the Alteran city. Still, such disrespect could not be tolerated; she'd find a way to deal with Radek Zelenka soon enough.

Thankfully, her failure to react to Zelenka's unexpected act did _not_ detract her awareness of the other intelligent, albeit incredibly annoying, human in the room. Seeing Dr. Rodney McKay approach her, she realized with something akin to alarm that he intended to mirror his compatriot's actions.

Illyria grimaced.

 _Disgusting_ , she thought scornfully. Even being aware of her true nature, she still caught the human occasionally looking upon the feminine aspects of her form with desire. Her eyes turned blue as they pinned the man with all the weight of an Old One's pitiless stare. "If you attempt to touch me, muck, I will unman you and feed you your own genitals."

Without another word, McKay quickly followed Radek's example and left to find Weir and announce their idea.

* * *

 **March 17th** **, 2006**  
 _Genii transport en route to Atlantis_

Commander Kolya watched his people from the front of the ship, frowning as he considered their options.

Cowen's faith in Ladon Radim appeared to have been rewarded because, miracle of miracles, they were in hyperspace on their way to Atlantis. The scientist was across from him, anxiously watching the various panels and instruments of the ship just as he'd been doing since they began their journey.

In all honesty, the only hardship they'd faced so far was the uncertainty of the ship's ability to ferry them to Atlantis and the boredom that the voyage inspired. _One can only check their ammo and the sharpness of their blade so many times before even_ that _becomes boring_ , Kolya mused.

Three more days, Radim had said earlier. Three more days until they would be in a position to take the city of the Ancestors for themselves. He smiled slightly and leaned back in his chair, tipping his cap over his face to block out the muted lighting. He soon fell asleep, dreaming of Genii warships, built from the technology of the Ancestors, taking the fight to the Wraith.

* * *

 **March 18th, 2006  
** _Atlantis_

"That's...risky, to say the least," Weir said with a frown.

"Yeah, it is," McKay agreed, "but unfortunately, I'm not sure we can do any better."

"So we have to be _in_ the storm to save us _from_ the storm?" Sheppard asked, squinting at the Canadian physicist as if looking for some semblance of sanity.

"Exactly," Radek said. "SG-1 performed a similar technique to power a Stargate, this is no different other than being performed on a larger scale."

"It does mean that we'll only be able to have a small number of people here because anyone _not_ in the control room is going to get toasted by the conducting electricity," Rodney warned.

Sumner sighed to himself. If he hadn't been a believer in Faith beforehand, he sure was now given how eerily her dream was syncing up to the reality. Glancing out the window, he could practically envision the looming clouds that were swiftly bearing upon the mainland and then Atlantis itself.

"How much longer until the storm hits us?" Weir asked quietly.

"Approximately four days if the storm continues at its current direction and speed," Radek answered, "and we _have_ managed to evacuate all of the Athosians."

"How long would it take to prepare and execute your plan?" Sumner asked.

"Not long," Rodney replied.

"A couple of hours," Radek elaborated, "then it would just be a matter of waiting for the storm."

"And then a lot of praying to god that your plan actually works," Sheppard added sourly.

"And that," Rodney agreed.

"Then let's get to work," Weir decreed, nodding decisively.

* * *

 **March 19th, 2006  
**

"So the storm, the literal one, is finally on its way," Buffy offered lamely. She walked with Faith at a brisk pace, heading toward the conference room where Sumner would be briefing most of the Marines about the situation."

"Looks like." The brunette gave the blonde a sidelong look and spoke with an even, neutral tone. "What's your plan, B?"

Buffy met the dark-haired girl's worried eyes. "I won't be kicked out of my own home again, Faith, and especially not by these...jerkfaces."

Faith snorted and nodded her agreement but her amusement waned as she thought about the ancient city that had become her home. Her eyes glittered dangerously. _No, this is_ our _home and may God help anyone who tries to take it from us._

"Faith, you comin' to hear the colonel, too?" came a sweet, familiar Texan drawl. Illyria, clad in Fred Burkle, joined the two Slayers.

"Heard Zelenka managed to give you a kiss," Faith murmured with a barely concealed smirk.

Buffy snickered.

Illyria glowered at the two young women.

"Musta been a good one if you didn't rip his face off," Faith added, grinning at Illyria's audible growl of annoyance. _Then again, even if God_ does _help them, we have Illyria,_ she thought smugly.

#

Col. Sumner observed Faith, Miss Summers, and Illyria make their way into the room, squeezing between the other Marines to situate themselves by Sheppard and Stackhouse in the crowded conference room. Sumner considered the three women for a moment before studying his larger audience.

Instead of the usual arrangement of people sitting around the table, his Marines stood along the edge of the crescent so that he stood in the center of the room facing them. Sumner took a breath and spoke in his usual measured tone. "Ladies and gentlemen, as you know, we have a situation. While the majority of you will be going to Manaria, some of us will have the single task of securing Atlantis while McKay and Zelenka attempt to ensure the survival of the city," he announced in a voice ringing with authority.

"Exactly how much of a focus do you want to have on securing the city in the middle of an uber-storm?" Sheppard wondered aloud with a puzzled expression.

Sumner winced at the question and spoke carefully. "We have intelligence from an unverified source that indicates an unknown party, likely the Genii, will attempt to take Atlantis while the bulk of our people are off-world."

If the colonel hadn't had the group's attention before, he certainly did now.

"Unverified source?" Lt. Ford echoed, drawing out the words to form a question.

"Exactly how it sounds, Lieutenant," the colonel answered. "Nothing concrete as far as details are concerned, but the source if reliable and trustworthy enough to take the warning seriously."

"How would they even know when to attack us in the first place?" Sgt. Bates asked, confused.

"And _how_ would they attack us?" Stackhouse added.

"All questions that I have no answers for and that we need to consider," Sumner stated.

"Well, the only real way for them to enter the city would be the Stargate, right?" Bates asked.

"Presumably," Sheppard agreed, "but the Genii are clever. The only humans we've come across so far in this galaxy who've not only managed to survive the Wraith, but also built a society advanced enough to conceivably challenge them in the future. They're damned resourceful, they've had to be."

"By all accounts, they don't have anything close to the technology to make ships that are capable of hyperspace travel," Illyria said thoughtfully. "Then again, most of Humanity's advanced technology is cobbled together from other races'. They coulda' done the same."

"That's a happy thought," Ford muttered. Speaking louder, he added, "if they intend on taking Atlantis during the storm, then they either have a way to monitor Atlantis and Lantea, or somebody's been talking."

"That's something that we'll leave to others to figure out. The bottom line is we can't afford to leave more than a handful of our people here because evacuating Atlantis will become increasingly complicated. Our efforts will become moot anyway if the city sinks. But, if we do find a way to save the city and the Genii _do_ attack, then we have to make sure it stays in our hands," Stackhouse summarized.

"Yes," Sumner confirmed.

"Well shit, a dozen people to cover a city the size of Atlantis? Even if we only limit ourselves to patrolling the immediate area around the central tower that's still a lot of territory to cover," Yamato pointed out.

"Yes it is, Yamato, but we'll deal with it. I'll be working with fireteam leaders to sort out patrol patterns after dinner tonight at 18:30," Sumner declared, shooting a look at the recon teams.

Sheppard, Bates, and Stackhouse nodded dutifully.

"McKay and Zelenka are the civvies staying to find a way to bring the shield up?" Ford asked.

"Dr. Zelenka _will_ continue his efforts to find a solution, but he'll end up joining the others on Manaria when the last of the expedition goes through the Stargate. However, our Miss Burkle," Sumner began, indicating the smiling, brown-haired woman, "has shown a remarkable aptitude for understanding the Ancient language and their technology and has volunteered her skills in his stead."

Several of the individuals familiar with Burkle's intellectual capabilities visibly perked up. John Sheppard, however, narrowed his eyes and stared at the woman suspiciously until finally meeting the colonel's eyes. John remained silent, but those who knew him well enough could see how agitated he'd become upon hearing the news.

"With the forewarning we received, we were able to mount an effective evacuation to Manaria. The camp, thanks to the hard work of a number of individuals, _including_ AR-2, is well stocked, relatively fortified, and a possible Alpha site in the future. The area is large and defensible enough that, should we lose Atlantis, it can be modified for permanent use. We've also moved three of the Puddle Jumpers to Manaria, cloaked and parked at camouflaged landing sites to leave us with additional firepower and mobility options.

"So even if we're stranded," Ford said slowly, "we're not _too_ stranded."

"Something like that," Sumner agreed.

"So the only thing left to decide is who stays behind on Atlantis?" Bates inquired, curiously.

"Weir is adamant that she be the last one to leave this city if its destruction becomes certain," Sumner started before being interrupted by a chorus of groans and jeers.

"Hey knock that off!" the colonel shouted, slapping his hand on the table with a crack of sound. "I may be your commanding officer, but she is the leader of this expedition! You will treat her with respect or as God as my witness, I will break your legs and leave you in the city to drown. And if by some miracle Atlantis survives, I will take your worthless carcass and dump you into the ocean myself. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Because Weir has decided to remain here, I'll be going with the expedition to help organize and secure our relocation site. If necessary, I'll also be temporarily taking charge of the expedition if Weir fails to make it off Atlantis. Lieutenant Miller and Sergeant Markham will assume command of our security teams in Manaria," Sumner announced.

"So who stays?" Parker asked.

"Teyla, Lt. Ford, Miss Summers, and Dr. Beckett will work on evacuating the Athosians to safety. They'll also act as a reserve should the situation in Atlantis heat up. AR-2, you'll be coming with me to Manaria. Stackhouse, I want both you and Faith working security here—"

Louis bumped fists with Faith.

"—Johns, Smitty, you'll be staying here as well," Sumner deliberately paused, giving them a moment to consider the information and ask questions.

"And my team?" Sheppard asked.

"Burns will join Miller's team on Manaria and you'll take over security in Atlantis," Sumner announced evenly. "Major, I'm going to trust you to protect this city or, failing that, get everyone in Atlantis off this planet in time."

Sheppard gave the older man a respectful nod. "Consider it done, Colonel."

"I'll consider it done, Major, when we're off Manaria and back on Atlantis, safe and sound. We do not _know_ if we're going to be attacked and though we cannot verify the authenticity of our source and their information, we have to plan for the worst. That, Major, I'll leave up to you. Everyone who isn't staying in Atlantis should be working on getting our critical supplies secured and loaded up to take to Manaria. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!'

"Then get to work," the Marine colonel ordered. "Sheppard, a minute of your time, please."

As the crowd of assembled Marines funneled out of the room, Sheppard found himself in the room not only with Col. Sumner but with Faith and Buffy as well. The latter two were leaning next to each other against a wall, arms folded with a deceptive casualness. All three were giving him a strange look, the kind of look that usually preceded unpleasant news, he realized with a sinking feeling. He might have considered bolting up to join the others in their exodus except for the looming figure of one probably-not-Winifred Burkle lurking by the door.

"Hello Major," she greeted him pleasantly as the last Marine stepped through the door. When the door behind her slid shut, blue streaks appeared in her brown hair and her smile faded as if it had never existed. She stared at him as though he were nothing more than an interesting type of worm and when she spoke, her voice was as cold as ice. "Your ignorance has left you unable to function efficiently in my presence, we will resolve this now."

Sheppard noticed that Sumner looked just as uncomfortable as he but said nothing. Faith and Buffy, on the other hand, looked perfectly comfortable at the sudden change in Burkle's behavior. Her eyes looked...intent and focused entirely on him.

#

"You fear me," the _definitely_ -not-Winifred Burkle stated in a flat voice.

Sheppard blinked at the blunt words. "You make me a little ...uncomfortable, I admit," he hedged, shrugging a shoulder in an attempt to downplay exactly how disconcerted she made him feel/

"The air is made foul by the stench of your fear," the scary-definitely-not-Winifred Burkle stated, implacable and unforgiving as she continued to stare at him unblinkingly.

Sheppard winced and felt at least a small measure of gratification that everyone else in the room did as well. "Okay, maybe uncomfortable is a bit of an understatement, I'll grant you that," Sheppard allowed, but was unable to curb his own defensiveness. John pointed a finger at her. "To be fair, whatever-you-are, you left quite a mess of those Wraith on that hive ship we rescued the colonel from. That and, well, you're dead."

"The shell is dead, I am not. I've found the slaughter of Wraith to be most refreshing, John Sheppard; they have far greater strength and pain tolerance than humans. I like the sound of their screams," the...thing said in a dreamy voice before its tone became harsh once again. "I would apologize for the distress caused by the remains of my entertainment but to apologize for your weakness would serve no purpose other than to coddle you."

Faith groaned and Buffy was visibly struggling not to laugh.

 _They're crazy,_ Sheppard thought sourly, _they have to be crazy; it's the only explanation for them to_ like _whatever_ it _is_ _._

Dead-nonhuman-scary-definitely-not-Winifred Burkle stared at him, and he had to take a minute to process her words to distinguish between information, insult, and creepiness. It was sort of blended together so it was more difficult than it should've been. Eventually, not knowing what else to say, Sheppard decided to start with the easy questions. "Who and what are you?"

"I am Illyria, God-King of the Primordium."

 _Huh, glad we got the easy ones settled,_ Sheppard swore. "Okay..." Sheppard drew out the word, waving a hand as a request for elaboration, or context, or possibly liquor.

"Illyria is an Old One," Faith sighed and point a finger at the nearest chair before he had a chance to open his mouth. "Sit down John, we're going to have some story time."

"Do so, my guide, I must locate the one who desires me and correct his erroneous assumptions about Alteran technology." The 'Old One' sighed, "in days long past, it would have been a simple process to provide the energy necessary to power such a crude shield myself, but in this weakened shell I am limited by the frailties and primitive technology of your kind." Without another word, Illyria turned her back and left the room, her blue-streaked hair becoming an even brown as she did so.

Sheppard blinked and looked at the others with wide eyes. "'The one who desires me'?"

Faith barked out a laugh. "McKay is having trouble adjusting to the revelation of Illyria's existence," Faith explained, chuckling. "He has a mad nerd-boner for Fred and Illyria's smarts and it only gets _harder_ by that body Illyria walks around in; he keeps forgetting that it's Illyria who's lurking on the inside. The man probably thinks he's subtle when he's eye-fucking her; he's just lucky that Illyria doesn't mind. My guess is that she considers his _appreciation_ as something close to outright worship. Personally, I don't think she's far off."

Sumner grimaced while Sheppard choked and began coughing.

When he was able to breathe again, he demanded in a raspy voice, "tell me everything." Seeing the glint in Faith's eye, he hastily added, "about Illyria, not McKay and...ugh."

Buffy and Faith took turns doing so while Sumner helped provide his own observations, confirmations, and input on how Sheppard could proceed in regards to the Old One. When they finished, Sheppard sat back in his chair and just stared at the table.

"I'm gonna need a little time to process this," he said, unable to raise his eyes in his stunned state.

"You have it," Sumner consented in his usual gruff voice.

He felt a small hand settle onto his shoulder and heard Faith take a seat next to him. "John. Forget everything else for a while and focus on this: Illyria is one of your best chances for saving this city. Use that."

"You know, I'm like ten years older than you. I think there's a rule out there that says you're not allowed to give me pep talks and good advice," Sheppard murmured.

He winced when a hand slapped him upside the head. "Ow!"

"Take your time to think about it John, but don't think too hard or you'll go bug-nuts crazy," Faith advised before clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to make him wince.

Sheppard nodded quietly and rested his hands on the table, studying them as if they'd become the most interesting things in the universe. He didn't hear Buffy, Faith, or Col. Sumner leave, being too focused on assimilating all of the information he'd been told. It was hard, it was _so_ hard. Not long ago, he'd just been a fighter pilot and thought the worst thing he'd ever have to face would be a Taliban or al-Qaeda ambush. Now...

He studied his hands in silence wondering how Faith and Buffy had coped when they'd been told they were 'Slayers' when they were still in high school. He shook his head and slapped the table. He'd think about it all later. Faith was right; Illyria was an asset and damn if she wasn't one of the finest assets he'd ever had on his team. Maybe she was a bit psycho, maybe she was a bit of a monster, but she was _their_ monster.

"Bring it on, Cowen," he murmured, showing teeth in a feral smile.

* * *

 **March 20th,** **2006**  
 _Lantea orbit_

Acastus Kolya whistled. "That is one _big_ storm."

Ladon merely nodded, staring at the weather system that covered the side of the planet facing them.

"Have you been able to locate Atlantis?" Kolya asked.

The brown-haired scientist shook his head. "It'll take some time. Even without the Ancestors' technology, we know the ones living in Atlantis possess weapons more advanced than ours. I thought it prudent to keep our scanning effort limited to low-tech and passive methods."

Kolya's lips tightened. He understood Radim's reasoning, understood _and_ agreed, but that didn't stop the flare of anger it stirred. "We have precious little time, Ladon. If Atlantis is at risk, we _need_ to find it soon or we'll be stranded here for a long, _long_ time."

"You think I don't know that?" Ladon snapped. "This is a big planet, Commander, and we have to find a single _city_. We've turned off all non-essential systems and are in a slowly decaying orbit. We'll have a better chance of catching any stray radio transmissions as we get closer to the planet and our ability to scan the surface will improve as well. We can only do our best, Commander."

Kolya looked at the scientist, at the stress lines that had appeared on the man's face and the dark circles under his eyes. He bit back the reprimand and forced himself to speak in a calmer voice. "Understood, Radim, do what you can and if you get the chance, get some sleep. We'll—"

"Commander! We found something!"

Both men snapped their head in the direction of the exclamation. The pale-skinned, red-haired woman had gone rigid at her station, frantically adjusting a series of dials as she glanced at them.

"What?" Kolya and Ladon exclaimed simultaneously.

Kolya glanced at Ladon Radim, making the man step back with a sheepish expression. Kolya left the scientist at the head of small ship while he went to look over whatever Sora Tyrus claimed to have found.

She pointed to a moving dot on the planet's surface, moving unnaturally quick across the water on a heading that would take it to the mainland. It was barely visible with their scanning equipment, only having been caught by Sora because of the movement. Kolya traced the dot's course backward until he saw...

Ten minutes later, Commander Kolya was smiling as Ladon began making small adjustments to set the ship on its new course. It seemed they had the blessing of the Ancestors themselves, given that they'd discovered the city before its _possible_ destruction. It _would_ take time for the ship to break atmosphere in a way that was natural enough to avoid scrutiny and then even longer to plan and mount the raid itself. They'd be cutting it close, judging by how fast the storm was moving, but they'd make it.

O _h yes, we'll make it_ , Acastus Kolya thought with a smile, thankful to Sora's keen eyesight and luck in seeing the small, moving ship of the Ancestors' design.

* * *

 **March 21st, 2006  
** _Atlantis_ **  
**

Faith felt something splash against her arm and she looked down, confused at the odd sensation. She saw the drop of moisture on her arm and shook the sweat off. She was currently on a veranda in one of the shorter towers in the central section of the city, setting up a camera to watch the open space that led to a direct route to the central tower. She'd been working with Louis to set up a surveillance grid around the central section of Atlantis all day. It was a difficult task, one made complicated not only by the sheer number of open areas that could double as entry points but also by the amount of vertical territory they had to cover.

It was incredibly unlikely the Genii had a way of traveling to Atlantis without the use of a Stargate but if they did, then Atlantis's few defenders would be hard-pressed to spot any incoming danger if the Genii were stealthy enough. Even with the cameras and motion sensors they'd installed, they simply had no way to watch everything at all times. In fact, it was likely that if the Genii were able to get on Atlantis and were clever enough, they could probably make it all the way to the central tower without being detected.

Another odd tap on her body, this was one on the back of her neck. Faith rubbed at it and paused when she felt the wetness there. Withdrawing her hand, she looked down at her wet fingers, just in time for another raindrop to splash against her open palm. She looked up and noticed that the gray clouds that had covered most of the sky earlier that day, had become far darker and covered the entire sky. Now that she was paying attention, she could feel what had once been a pleasant breeze had turned cooler and less gentle. She exhaled heavily and instinctively checked for the presence of her sidearm and the scabbard at her side that held one of the swords gifted to her by Thor.

 _Drip._ _Drip._ _Drip._

Faith could see, as well as feel, that the rain was beginning to fall faster and that the temperature was quickly declining.

 _Not long now,_ Faith thought, hardening herself for the fight she _knew_ to be coming.

She finished setting up the small camera, activated it, and began jogging back to the Gate room to let Major John Sheppard know that time was running out.

#

"Well?"

McKay glanced at Illyria and shrugged. "We're ready, we just can't do anything until we receive sufficient electrical discharge from the lightning can be harness to power the shield. We just have to wait."

"'We just have to wait'," Sheppard echoed, giving McKay a glare.

"Though it pleases me to think you believe me to be a god," Rodney McKay began, giving Sheppard a sunny smile, "I do not actually have the ability to conjure lightning."

"Inducing atmospheric discharge within the atmosphere is hardly the work of gods, muck. Doing so in the void of space is far more impressive, if impractical," Illyria announced, before turning on her heel to go examine her plants by the Stargate.

McKay and Sheppard watched her leave. Sheppard shook his head and glanced back at McKay, whose eyes had fixed upon...

Sheppard smacked McKay's gut. "Dude, stop staring at the scary lady's ass."

McKay blushed. "I know, it's just..." The Canadian waved a hand at the Old One who had bent over and appeared to be crooning at an odd vine.

Sheppard stared at McKay.

"Oh, shut up, like you've never had a crush before," McKay snapped then hurriedly changed the subject. "So yes, Sheppard, now we just wait."

Rodney was almost out of the room before he heard John's voice echo out of the room.

"Yes, McKay, I've had crushes on girls before, but never one that found ripping off body parts to be the best thing since sliced bread."

Rodney scowled and glanced over his shoulder. "Well, maybe I'm just kinky like that!"

When he turned back around, he noticed that Illyria had looked up from the potted plants to stare at him. McKay gritted his teeth and kept on walking, ignoring Sheppard's laughter.

#

"This is boooring," Buffy complained.

"Stop whining, lass, it doesn't suit you," Beckett informed her, wincing when she glared at him.

"I wasn't whining!" Buffy whined.

Ford, the current pilot of the Puddle Jumper, chuckled.

Teyla patted Buffy's arm sympathetically. "We must wait, Buffy Summers, until we find out if we're needed. If we go early, then we ruin any surprise we'd have for Atlantis's would-be attackers."

Buffy crossed her arms and pouted. "I know, I just hate the idea of waiting for an attack."

"You are a hunter, Buffy, it is natural to feel that way," Teyla offered, this time bumping Buffy's shoulder with her own.

Ford blew out a breath. "She isn't wrong, though." The dark-skinned man rummaged through his tactical vest before revealing a deck of cards featuring nude women. "Poker anyone?" Ford asked with a grin.

Beckett turned bright red and coughed while Teyla just looked confused.

"You got those from Faith, didn't you?" Buffy asked, sighing in resignation.

Ford just nodded, still grinning.

"Deal me in, as long as we don't have to bet with tabbies, siameses, or calicos," the blonde Slayer grumbled and ignored the odd looks she received in reply.

* * *

"How much longer, Radim?" Kolya asked quietly, as if afraid that his voice alone would alert his prey to his presence.

"Another hour or so until we're within visual range, Commander," Ladon answered. "Maybe another fifteen minutes after that until we reach it."

A sudden gust of wind jerked the ship, flinging some of the equipment into the main hold.

Kolya scowled at his soldiers, many of whom had fallen down or pitched from their seats at the sudden movement. "Secure that gear and check your own equipment. We'll finalize our assault plans in about an hour."

Grim nods from his people as they followed his orders. There would be a fight on Atlantis, and whether Atlantis could be saved or not, he _would_ get his people home _with_ the weapons and supplies they wanted.

"Sora, front and center." The girl stood straight so fast it almost hurt him to watch. She was too eager, too hungry for this. Sora would make trouble if an old childhood friend, Teyla Emmagan, was on Atlantis if what he'd heard from Cowen was true. Kolya cleared his mind with a shake of his head and focused on the girl practically vibrating in front of him. Young, eager, but _smart. "_ Sora, I need a sounding board; we need to figure out our approach vector."

The ship pitched to the side again.

Sora grimaced. "Since it's only going to get worse than this, Commander, I'd recommend we stay as low as possible. With the water so dark and with all the lightning, I bet it'll be damned hard to spot us. I'm more worried about being detected once we're on the inside."

Kolya stroked his square jaw, looking at her thoughtfully. "I thought the same. I want you to sit with Ladon Radim in the cockpit and come up with some viable strategies to get our people in Atlantis. Once we're in visual range, decide which method will suit us best."

"Yes sir!" the girl smiled and hurriedly made her way to the scientist who'd made the whole trip possible.

The man deserved a medal, not that Kolya would admit it aloud, but he'd float the idea to Cowen when they made it back home. Yes, this trip would benefit _all_ of the Genii and all it would take is the capture or destruction of a token defense force.

The image of the beaten, shattered Wraith corpse flashed into his memory, but he shrugged it off, focusing instead on the list of items he was hoping to find for the Genii to help fight the Wraith.

* * *

The rain poured, the wind howled, and the thunder boomed.

Faith gritted her teeth, feeling her skin prickle like it would when a vamp was watching her. She glanced at one of the monitors over Sheppard's shoulder, looking for any sign of the source of her discomfort.

Nothing.

"Faith..." Sheppard warned.

"Has Ford or B seen anything?"

"Not since you asked two minutes ago," Sheppard replied, narrowing his eyes at her.

"What about the cameras and the sensors? Anything?"

"Everything's fine so far. Faith, go find something to do _elsewhere,"_ Sheppard ordered, turning his chair and crossing his arms resolutely.

Faith was tempted to argue, but seeing the expressions of Louis and McKay, decided to exercise the ol' maturity muscle she'd found herself neglecting far too frequently. Moving away from his personal space, she left the DHD room and began pacing the circumference of the Gate room, ignoring the curious or annoyed glances she garnered from the others.

 _It won't be long_ , Faith thought, _but I wish they'd hurry the fuck up._

Louis and she were stationed in the Gate room, watching over both the Stargate as well as Dr. McKay, Dr. Weir, and Illyria, who were monitoring both the cameras and sensors, but also the indicators that estimated how much energy they'd be able to collect at any given moment. Those indicators were steadily increasing as the storm grew worse, but there still wasn't enough lightning to charge the shield.

Johns and Smitty were conducting a patrol on the lower levels of the tower, near the armory, while Faith and Louis would observe the sensor grid. When they finished, Faith and Stackhouse would conduct their own sweep of the Jumper Bay above the Gate room, before descending and checking the infirmary and its remaining supplies.

It was _boring_ and what was worse was that Faith could just tell that they were near. If they weren't on Atlantis yet, they would be soon.

* * *

"Well?" Commander Kolya asked.

"There's definitely _someone_ there but I've seen no activity," Sora reported, pointing out the lights that were clearly _not_ of Ancestor origin.

The ship bucked.

Ladon swore. "Commander, this ship isn't going to take much more, I'm already getting alerts about microfractures in the hull. We need to get off this ship _now_."

Kolya gave the man a curt nod and raised an eyebrow at Sora. "We'll do it your way."

Sora gave him a smile that was all teeth. She bent down next to Radim and pointed at a bridge that connected two tall towers, with one side ending at a large flat pane of glass. "Right there will do, Ladon, right next to that window."

"Hover over that spot, Mr. Radim. You said you had an automatic navigation system?"

Ladon nodded, bringing the ship to the designated spot, sweating as he fought to keep the ship steady amidst the sheets of rain and wind. "Then we'll all drop down on the marker and you'll set the ship to travel far enough away that it 'll crash into the sea."

"Yes, Commander," Radim muttered, grunting when a gust of wind made the hull creak ominously.

#

Sora carefully plucked the rectangular section of cut glass from its setting, waiting until a barrage of thunder to wash over them before Kolya helped her toss it away from the building. She put the glass cutter in her pack and took back the rifle Acastus had held for her.

Then she, Kolya, Ladon, and the other two dozen Genii soldiers carefully entered their makeshift door, spreading out and taking defensive positions, alert for any sign of trouble or observers.

They weren't on the main tower, unfortunately, but both she and Kolya had deemed it too reckless to charge straight into what must surely be the heart of Atlantis. So they'd picked a smaller tower, one immediately adjacent to the central tower and that connected directly to the lower third of that main tower.

Rather than going on the inside of that smaller tower, Sora had thought it a more cunning idea to travel to the central tower on _top_ of the causeway, rather than through it. Even if Teyla and the others were watching, which they surely were, it was unlikely that they'd be watching there.

When the last of the Genii soldiers had escaped the raging storm into the safety of the tower, Kolya divided them into teams and gave them their orders in a quiet, but authoritative voice.

"Commander, what are we supposed to do with any of the defenders we encounter?" one of his men asked quietly.

"You do whatever you have to," Kolya replied simply, and clicked the safety off his weapon. "Remember, the highest priority is finding their 'Puddle Jumpers', the secondary objective is to find the supplies the Genii need. Sora, you, Ladon, and your team are to find their weapons and medical equipment as a secondary priority. All of us are to meet in their command and control room; it's likely to possess their Stargate and we can use that to retreat if we don't capture one of their ships. See if you can find out what their plans are for saving Atlantis if possible; if we can capture Atlantis we would finally have a true edge against the Wraith. Now, get to work."

Ladon Radim cleared his throat. "Remember, they may have access to some of the Ancestors' technology that might already allow them to see us. But if not, _they_ might have tools that could be used to observe us, like our cameras. Look for anything on the walls, ceilings, or corners that looks out of place and do your best to avoid being seen."

Kolya nodded and waved a hand at Radim, "do as he says."

With those final words, the three teams of Genii split off from each other as they began their search for the ships and the supplies, determined that _nothing_ would stop them.

* * *

A high pitched cracking sound had Johns and Smitty jerking their weapons up, reflexively searching for the source of the shot. Only a second later did they relax.

"Fucking lightning is going to make it impossible to hear an actual shot even _i_ _f_ there's actually some assholes coming here to take our shit," Johns grumbled.

"Thunder," Smitty replied absentmindedly.

"What?" Johns asked, glancing at his partner in confusion.

"It's the thunder that makes the sound, dumbass," Smitty smirked.

Johns gaped at Smitty. "Well, fuck you too, _professor_ ," he sneered before throwing a lazy swing at Smitty's shoulder.

Smitty deftly avoided the punch and shook his head with a smile. He glanced to his left, giving a hallway they passed a cursory look, inspecting it for whatever aggressors they may or may not be expecting.

They stopped when they arrived at the entrance of the armory, palming the door open and stepping inside to inspect the supplies still within Atlantis. The door slid shut behind them, unaware of the eyes that followed their progress.

* * *

Ladon shot out an arm, preventing Sora from moving past him down the corridor that their team was slowly moving through.

She snapped her head in his direction, opening her mouth, obviously intending to demand an explanation.

Landon pointed at something on the wall, something close to the floor.

Sora crouched with Ladon and studied the device. It was dark and black and now that she was looking for it, saw a similar device on the opposite side of the wall. They were small, not even the side of a finger, and were completely even with one another.

Sora lifted an eyebrow at Ladon who frowned, studying the devices.

Glancing at Sora, Radim used a hand to indicate the invisible, horizontal line that connected the two devices. "I don't know what it is, but I suggest we step over that line. Could be a weapon, could be some kind of camera or sensor of some sort, I don't know," the Genii scientist ventured.

Sora nodded and indicated for the others to step over the imaginary line Ladon had drawn out.

They continued forward, quiet and intent.

* * *

The flash of lightning and booming of thunder was like a burr under Sheppard's skin, an annoyance only made more so by Faith's belief that they were no longer alone in Atlantis. A belief they couldn't prove, but one that he wasn't willing to doubt.

"Anything?" Sheppard asked over the radio.

"Nothing, sir. All's quiet aside from all the fucking lightn—thunder," Johns replied, voice oddly loud in the DHD room.

"Affirmative, finish your patrol and get yourselves back to the Gate room. McKay estimates only another ten minutes until we have enough lightning to power the shields, and eleven minutes until the storm surge impacts Atlantis," Sheppard ordered.

"Cutting it a little close, sir?" Johns inquired, voice tinged with humor.

"You could put it that way, now get back up here so you don't get fried."

"Yes, sir!"

Sheppard set the radio down and sighed. Hearing the rapping sound, he looked aside to see Faith in the doorway, wearing that same look she'd worn when she'd gone with him to rescue Col. Sumner.

 _Predatory, ready, intent_ , he mused. _Or, to put it more accurately, ready to rip off someone's face._ John shook his head and said aloud, "nothing new, Faith. Ford and Buffy haven't seen anything up top either, Dr. Weir told them to go ahead and get back down to Atlantis and get ready to give us a lift if Atlantis goes bottoms up."

Near one of the computer consoles, McKay turned his nose up in the air and sniffed. "Ye of little faith."

Illyria, instead of double and triple checking their numbers like McKay, was currently staring at the office fern with a creepy level of intensity.

Dr. Weir sat near Sheppard, studying both the cameras as well as the energy readouts.

Even as Sheppard studied the older woman, the former ambassador suddenly jerked up before leaning forward with narrowed eyes. "Sheppard...?"

Sheppard walked over to her and looked over her shoulder at the camera displays. "What?"

"I'm not sure, but I think I saw some movement in the corridor leading to the armory," Weir said, pointing at the screen. "Faith, why don't—"

Weir cut off abruptly and Sheppard followed her gaze to the doorway formerly occupied by Faith, the doorway that was now empty.

"She intends to defeat the intruders," Illyria explained helpfully then tilted her head. "I will join her." Without waiting for their say-so, the Old One left looking mildly interested in the new developments.

Sheppard and Weir glanced at each other.

"Poor bastards," Weir murmured with a shake of her head. "Lt. Ford and Miss Summers will be here in less than five minutes, better get on the com and let Johns and Smitty know they're being tailed."

Sheppard just nodded, feeling a surge of pity for their Genii intruders.

* * *

"Johns! Report in!"

Johns and Smitty looked at each other and shrugged. Johns tapped his earpiece. "Major?"

"Johns, you and Smitty need to get up here, now. We might have unfriendly company already in Atlantis."

"On our way, sir!" Johns replied smartly. "Come on Smitty, time to roll out."

Smitty blew a raspberry. "How the fuck are the Genii supposed to get here without the Stargate?"

Johns shrugged. "Not my department."

They palmed open the door to the armory and found a man in an unfamiliar uniform aiming two pistols at them. The man wore a gray cap and uniform and his face had a cold, hardened expression that offered no mercy.

There was a flash as both pistols discharged, a flash that was the last thing either Johns or Smitty would ever see.

#

Ladon Radim and Sora Tyrus watched the two bodies fall to the floor and moved past them as soon as they were no longer obstructing the doorway. Walking into what must be Sheppard and Weir's armory, Sora found herself disappointed.

"We were supposed to find out their plans; we should've kept them alive," Ladon protested quietly.

"No reason to chance it, inspect the room," Sora argued, directing the last part of her words to the others.

"They must've taken most of their equipment when they fled," one of Sora's men suggested.

Sora nodded. "Grab what you can. If there's C-4 here, make sure you find it and stash it. Get to it, you have last than four minutes to canvas this room. You heard as well as I did: they know we're here."

"If they didn't before, they sure will now," another one of her men muttered, staring at the corpses Sora had left in her wake.

"Yes, so get to work. Kinto, Sturn, you watch the hallway. Four minutes gentlemen, then we make our way to their 'Gate room' to greet Teyla Emmagan, Dr. Weir, and Maj. Sheppard," Sora directed.

The men obeyed.

#

"This is ridiculous!" a man whispered, "there's almost thirty of us! So why are _we_ the ones crawling around like bugs afraid to get stepped on."

"Be quiet!" the leader of the squad hissed. "We have to find the Ancestor's ships or we're dead."

"How do we even know that they're in this tower?" another asked.

"Radim pointed out an aperture near the top of the tower on our approach; the ships have to be somewhere near that point," a woman murmured.

"Come on, let's find those ships," the leader whispered and began leading his squad up a darkened set of stairs.

A disdainful face framed by blue-streaked brown hair observed their interactions with blue, blue eyes. Illyria cocked her head and smiled.

* * *

"Are you sure about this," Lt. Ford breathed. "We're like fish in a barrel in here."

"I have to agree," Beckett complained, "I'm feeling quite out of my league. I'm a doctor, damn it, not a soldier!"

"I believe that Fred Burkle will be able to distract them sufficiently enough that we can surprise and overwhelm them," Teyla replied calmly.

Buffy had to bite her tongue to avoid laughing for a good minute or two until she let the humor fade.

That she'd been able to laugh proved she'd come far in her life, had done so many things, had seen even more. Not too many years ago, this situation would've been a nightmare scenario for her, one that she would've fought tooth and nail to find a way out of. Now...she'd killed humans before, not all of them had even been truly evil and the idea of killing them again. Well, she supposed what was bothering her was the fact that she wasn't actually all that bothered to begin with. Glancing down, she cycled the bolt on her P90 and steeled herself for whatever might come.

* * *

"They aren't responding, ma'am," Sheppard told her, fists clenched as his gut told him that he wouldn't be hearing them ever again.

Weir breathed out a long breath. " _Damn_ ," she swore. She grappled with her emotions before whirling on McKay. "How much time do we have and what can we do to help?"

"Don't let me die," the Canadian replied instantly.

Sheppard took out his pistol and cocked it, snagging McKay's attention. "Seriously, don't let me, or any of the equipment in this room, die. We have about eight minutes, so go do your soldier thing _elsewhere_."

John considered the man. Or more accurately, John considered how nice of a target the man's head made and how much lovelier it would be with a few bullet holes in it.

A shoulder nudged his own and he glanced aside to see Weir flashing a half-smile at him. "Go out there and target the _bad_ guys, John. Sgt. Stackhouse probably shouldn't have to cover the entryway to this room all by himself."

"Of course, ma'am," he replied and turned to leave. Then he paused, turned around, and gave the pistol he was still holding to Weir. "Just in case."

The doctor raised an eyebrow but said nothing as she took the pistol. "Be careful, John, we still have no idea how many there are."

Sheppard just nodded.

* * *

Faith held herself still, digging her fingers into the metal of the pipe as she watched the soldiers pass underneath her. She saw the small droplets of blood their shoes left, she saw their packs filled with the Atlantis expedition's gear, and she saw the earpiece that the man had fitted into his ear, probably hoping to catch any chatter between the expedition members.

She didn't know was actually responsible for killing Johns and Smitty but the two mysterious corpses she'd seen in her dreams now had faces and names. Somewhere, there was a man who might just kill _her_ if she wasn't careful but it wasn't only that Genii man she'd have to worry about. These Genii, all of them, were quiet, professional, and intent on fulfilling their mission. Sure, they were on a mission to help their people or whatever, that she couldn't blame them for. But they didn't give a single flipping fuck who got hurt in the process and _that_ they needed to answer for.

Her eyes narrowed. _Payback_.

As the last man moved past her, she let go of the pipe.

* * *

"There should be more ships here than this," the leader of the Genii squad observed, looking at the hanger bay that held only three of the small Ancestor ships.

"Maybe, but it's not a surprise that they took most of them to Manaria. At least the ones here should be enough to take us all out of here," another man observed.

They slowly fanned out into the hanger bay and approached the ship that was in the center of the bay, powered down with its hatch open. The leader of the group stopped and waited until the others stopped and looked to him for orders. He pointed out the ships in the bay and the two visible ways of reaching the upper levels that held those ships.

The men followed his gaze and split apart into their assigned teams, heading off in opposite directions even as the leader began issuing instructions.

"We don't have much time; Nyles, Hoden, Kimmur, Athen, get in that ship in front of us and see what you can do to power it up. Olato, Penka, Jedan, you three take the ship on the second level directly ahead of us. Jedan, Pris, you two are with me on—"

The leader's voice was abruptly cut off with a choked gasp followed by a loud, sickening, snapping sound.

The eight men all turned around at the sound, already raising their weapons to aim at...

"You have made a grave mistake in coming to this place. Normally, I would find no pleasure in the education of muck, but I find myself looking forward to showing you the error of your ways," a cold voice said.

The head of the leader was flung toward the closest man while the rest of the body was similarly thrown at the Genii soldiers.

Illyria picked up the leader's rifle and broke it in half. Straightening. she felt a bullet impact against her chest but ignored the sensation. She threw one and then the other rifle halves, sending them hurtling through the air like javelins. The jagged ends of the rifle halves each impaled one of the Genii soldiers resulting in both being jerked off their feet at the force of the impact.

She felt a bullet graze her temple and another flatten against her right shoulder, but neither bullet so much as broke the skin, let alone her red carapace. Illyria smiled and began walking toward them.

#

"Kill her! Kill her!" Kimmur shouted, firing his own rifle at the...thing that had ripped Esan's head off.

Aiming down the sights of his rifle, he pulled the trigger and watched, slack-jawed, as the only evidence of his bullet's impact was the slightest indentation in the thing's armor.

Beside him, Nyles and Hoden wore the same expression as he, utter disbelief that was quickly morphing into abject horror.

Athen raised a battle cry and ran at the thing with his long knife.

The thing _smiled_ and grabbed the man's hand faster than Kimmur's eyes could track. Athen screamed as the thing began crushing his hand, a scream that redoubled in volume when the thing's hand slapped down onto Athen's chest. No, not slapped down...

Kimmur staggered back and vomited onto the ground when he saw the thing's arm withdraw from Athen's chest, an arm encased up to its elbow in Athen's blood.

He could hear Penka praying to the Ancestors even as she continued firing ineffectively at the thing. He didn't blame her; this was no Wraith, no Ancestor, but some kind of demon!

Glancing behind him, he shouted, "get in the ship, find a way to power it up and close the hatch! We need to get out of here!"

Hearing the others' acknowledgment, he fired several more times before he ran to catch up with the others. Kimmur quickly caught up to the others, all running from the _thing_ that was the spawn from some nightmare. They were close, just a handful of more steps until the safety of the Ancestors would be theirs.

He took the lead of the group, turning the corner of the ship's rear to enter the ship through the open hatch.

He stumbled to a halt and looked into the raised barrels of four rifles. Kimmur's jaw dropped in shock and felt a wet warmth expand from his groin as his bladder loosened. The others jostled him, trying to move past his frozen form to perceived safety.

#

"Take 'em down!" Ford ordered.

Ford, Beckett, Teyla, and Buffy pulled the triggers and sent a stream of bullets into the half dozen Genii soldiers who stood frozen, staring at them.

It was Ford who had come up with the plan, Ford who had convinced the others to lure the Genii into a trap. When Illyria had informed them over the radio that there were nine Genii on their way to the hanger, they'd decided to go along with it.

Buffy had personally felt icky about the idea, of shooting into a mass of people without even giving them a chance of surrender, but outnumbered more than two-to-one and with precious little time until billions of volts coursed through the city, practicality had won out over morality. There was also the fact, one she wouldn't share with any of the others, that shooting the Genii was a kindness compared to what Illyria would do to them.

Waiting in the Puddle Jumper with the others, she'd felt much better about her decision when the screams resulting from Illyria's appearance had begun.

In seconds, it was over and the five Genii had fallen in place, multiple bullet holes in each body that wept blood into their clothing and onto the floor.

Ford didn't move, holding a hand out to tell them to stay in place. "Miss Burkle? Are you alright?"

"I'm just fine, don't worry, Lieutenant, but we better hustle up if we're gonna make it to the control room in time!" the southern drawl answered.

Ford put his hand down and cautiously stepped from the Puddle Jumper, P90 still raised but angled downward.

Buffy followed him, grimacing as she stepped over the bodies. When she'd finally stepped out of the ship and caught up to Ford, she gave a brief wave to Illyria, who merely tilted her head at her.

Seeing a slight twitch in one of the bodies, Buffy immediately twisted and fired a quick burst from her P90 into the injured Genii's face. As everyone jumped and swung their guns in her direction, she just pointed at the dead guy who hadn't actually been dead before.

"We missed one," Buffy answered their unasked question with a bland voice.

"We are thankful for your watchfulness, Buffy Summers," Teyla murmured with a regal nod.

Buffy gave her a thumbs up.

"How'd you take these Genii down, Fred?" Ford asked uneasily, looking at the headless corpse, the two impaled bodies, and the single unaccounted for Genii featuring a gaping hole in his chest.

"Well, Daddy taught me how to toss a javelin and it isn't so hard to decapitate someone!" Illyria replied, looking adorably sheepish. Wearing her Atlantis civilian uniform, pristine and utterly free of blood, the brown-haired girl was at complete odds with the liberal amounts of blood that could be seen everywhere else in her immediate vicinity.

Everyone stared at her.

"Time to move folks, we don't want to get all crispy fried, now do we?" Buffy asked loudly and dragged Ford by his shirt away from his inspection of the grisly scene. She continued dragging him, ignoring his squawks of protest and was relieved when he finally got the hint and began leading the others from the hanger bay.

Reunited with Illyria, the five expedition members made their way down toward the Gate room. Behind her, Teyla and Dr. Carson Beckett studiously avoided looking at the bodies that Winifred 'Fred' Burkle had left strewn about the floor as they followed Ford and Buffy down the nearest set of stairs.

* * *

Faith dropped behind them and opened up with her P90, immediately tagging two of the Genii with multiple bursts of gunfire. The bullets tore into them, turning each of their heads into pulp and cratering their chests.

 _Two for two,_ Faith thought grimly, _and I'm not done yet. Johns, Smitty, this is for you._

Before the Genii had even begun to react, Faith loosed another hail of bullets, taking down the woman furthest from her position, the one most difficult to reach. The P90 cut off with a series of clicks, and as exposed in the open corridor as she was, she elected to take out her sidearm instead of reloading the P90. She slung the P90 behind her and stood with her pistol raised in a classic Weaver stance.

Reacting to the threat behind them, the Genii scattered to the edges of the corridor, using the evenly spaced wall junctures as cover. One Genii didn't make it, felled by the four bullets discharged by Faith's Beretta.

Faith abandoned her shooter's pose and took cover of her own, narrowly avoiding the staccato of return fire. Sparks marked the bullets that had missed her but even though she'd found safety and had taken down almost half of the Genii, she was unwilling to risk a prolonged firefight. She peeked around the corner and jerked back at the gunfire that erupted in her direction. When there was a lull in the shooting, she peeked back out with her pistol already aimed at the poor cover one man had taken position behind.

There was only a small target available, but Faith took it and emptied six bullets into the man's knee. If the man's screams of agony weren't proof enough of her accuracy, then the leg that had been torn off at the knee from the sheer amount of concentrated fire would more than suffice. Using the distraction of the man's screams, she drew her sword and darted out, rushing toward them.

It must've looked laughable, Faith supposed, a crazy lady wearing advanced weaponry charging them with a _sword_ of fall things. _But they won't be laughing for long_ , Faith thought with a feral smile.

#

Sora swore when she saw Sturn clutching the stump of his leg, screaming as blood pooled from the ragged wound.

"Kill the bitch," she ordered harshly, turning away from the sight to bring her pistol up to fire at...

The dark-haired woman was rushing toward them with a pistol in one hand and a _sword_ in the other, with more than twenty feet separating them. Sora gaped only for a moment before instincts and training kicked in.

She pulled the trigger, the others following her example less than a heartbeat after.

To her amazement, the girl jumped, jumped higher than should be possible and shoved her sword _into_ the ceiling ten feet above their heads. The Genii under her command faltered for a moment but reacquiring her in their sights. By then, the girl had used the sword to swing herself toward them, closing the distance in just a few seconds.

Now in their midst, the brunette fired a single bullet into Sturn's head, pivoting to fire four more at Kinto. Kinto had reacted quickly and managed to escape a fatal injury but was still hit once in the shoulder by the girl's bullets. Kinto cursed and dove onto his side, firing his own rifle at the girl. The girl, however, was already moving.

Sora fired her own rifle, only to be stymied as the girl dodged this way and that way, even using the walls on each side of the corridor as launch pads. She kicked one man in the gut, sending him flying back then darted back and stepped on Kinto's elbow hard enough that Sora could _hear_ the bone crumbling.

The brunette grabbed Kinto by his shoulder, using him as a body shield before tossing him at Sora as if the man weighed nothing.

Sora swore and scrambled out of the way. "Ladon, Jurgen, do something!"

"On it," Ladon grunted, ruffling through his pack. Jurgen raised his rifle and fired, again _dodged_ by the girl somehow. _Another_ sword appeared from the girl's wrist and cut the rifle in half before a slim, feminine fist slammed into Jurgen's face with enough force to send him flying backward.

Out of ammo, Sora drew her knife already knowing the outcome. She slashed at the woman, twice, three times, to no effect. The woman twisted each time and used Sora's nearness to prevent Jurgen, Ladon, or the injured Kinto from firing their own weapons.

Sora screamed her rage, a rage fueled even hotter when the woman smirked at her. She reversed the grip on her knife slashed with her forearm and was blocked each time with the odd wrist sword the woman wielded. Sora slashed faster, doing everything she could do to at least draw blood, an accomplishment that none of the five dead men had managed to accomplish.

Hoping to surprise the smirking woman, Sora feinted with the knife before throwing a punch at the other woman's throat. The woman caught her fist and _squeezed._

Sora screamed as she felt the bones in her hand grind into small pieces. She fell to her knees, making pathetic mewling sounds in between her screams as she made a vain attempt to run away, to beg for mercy, to do _anything_ to get away.

"Sora!"

Sora heard Jurgen's voice, but only registered the woman's slim hand that had destroyed her own.

"I hate you, Teyla!" Sora screamed, not even caring that it wasn't Teyla she faced. "I hate you!"

The woman's eyebrow arched. "Honey, you ain't the first and you won't be the last. But unlike you, at least most of the others who hated me were able to draw blood."

Inspired by rage and pain, Sora made one last attempt to stab the other woman. Her hand stopped halfway, knife clattering to the floor as the woman's sword first removed her hand and then sliced her from shoulder to hip before the pain of her severed hand had even begun to register.

#

Ladon finally found what he was looking for, just in time to see Sora dismembered by the sword wielding woman. He shuddered.

This entire operation had gone straight to hell, start to finish. True, they knew they would be in for a fight that they wouldn't know exactly what to expect, but...

The team that had found the Puddle Jumpers had been slaughtered according to 'Major Sheppard's' report. Kolya was slowly advancing into the Gate room and now Sora...

Three members of their original squad left. _Three_. Ladon knew that the humans serving their Doctor Weir and Major Sheppard were just defending themselves and their home, but he couldn't help his own anger at the senseless waste of lives.

"Kinto, Jurgen, get out of here and catch up to the commander!" he shouted. Looking dazed, they instinctively obeyed the voice that held a note of command. The moment they cleared the area, he pulled the pin from the grenade behind his back, waited for a handful of heartbeats before sliding it on the floor toward the woman.

The woman's eyes widened and she moved impossibly fast in an attempt to escape the blast, but not fast enough as the grenade went off. Fortunately for the woman, the blast consisted of a series of concussive bangs and blinding flashes. Even in the midst of the storm's own lightning flashes and booming thunder, the flashbang was more than capable of doing its job.

Ladon turned tail and _ran_ , wishing he'd taken something _other_ than stun grenades and ammo cartridges. But it was enough and he ran to push Jurgen and Kinto forward before the warrior woman shook off the effects and caught up to them.

"Go!" he shouted, spurring them on even faster. They obeyed, even Kinto who wore an agonized expression that only grew as every running step jostled his shattered elbow and wounded shoulder.

 _We shouldn't have come here,_ Ladon Radim thought with sincere regret. _We could have been allies, despite the rocky beginning. Damn you Kolya and double damn you, Cowen!_

* * *

Maj. Sheppard and Sgt. Stackhouse looked down the main corridor with their rifles raised, watching for...anything.

"Are you sure?" Sheppard asked, straining to hear the gunshots Louis claimed to have heard.

"I'm sure, Major, I heard gunshots above us," Stackhouse stated quietly.

A moment later their earpieces crackled, Ford's voice echoing in their ears.

Sheppard relaxed and tapped his piece, "what was that, Lieutenant? How many?"

At Ford's answer, Louis turned incredulous eyes on his leader. "Well, crap, there can't be too many more of—"

There was the crack of a gunshot and Stackhouse was knocked to the ground as the bullet penetrated the sergeant's chest.

"Stackhouse!" Sheppard cried out and jerked his head up the corridor, a corridor rapidly filling with more than a half-dozen Genii soldiers.

He raised his P90 and held the trigger down to release a burst of bullets in their direction. He darted out to Stackhouse's side, letting out another burst of bullets before he took hold of the sergeant's collar and dragged him to the relative safety of the DHD room. He ran back to the corridor entrance to fire at the Genii, now much closer to the Gate room's entrance than before. Two Genii went down from his P90, but their answering gunfire forced him to take cover around the corner.

"Ford, I need you in the Gate room! I counted seven Genii on their way in and Stackhouse is down!" he shouted into his earpiece, not bothering to wait for a reply as he darted from around the corner to shoot at the advancing Genii. Another Genii soldier was brought down, but he had to take cover once again from their return fire. He breathed out, checked his P90's ammo, and repeated the maneuver.

The lead Genii, unfortunately, was ready for him, and the flash of the man's pistol was accompanied by a flare of pain in Sheppard's shoulder. A glancing blow, but one that threw his aim off. Already seeing the danger, Sheppard glanced at Weir, who'd taken a crouched position in the DHD room. "Weir, I can't cover both you and McKay, get to McKay's side!"

Weir nodded curtly and was running toward Sheppard and McKay's position on the opposite side of the floor when a gray blur knocked Weir off her feet, flinging the pistol Sheppard had given her from her hand. Knowing of Sheppard's injury, the Genii leader had obviously capitalized on the situation and four other Genii soldiers filed into the Gate room behind the one who had taken Weir down. Sheppard ducked behind a computer console and managed to take out another Genii soldier with a burst of his P90.

 _Only five left, just gotta hold out for Ford, Faith, and Illyria_ , Sheppard told himself. Without bothering to look behind him, Sheppard shouted, "is it done yet, McKay? Maybe we can use it to fry—"

"90 seconds, Sheppard, hold them off for that long!" McKay replied, then ducked down when sparks from a bullet impact rained down on him.

Sheppard looked over the computer console to fire when he realized that Weir was being held upright with a gun pointed at her head. "I'd stop firing now, Sheppard, unless you want this lovely woman to die. You are Sheppard, yes? And I imagine this would be your vaunted leader, Dr. Weir. How fortuitous," one of the men said. The man stood behind Weir, pistol aimed toward Sheppard while one of the other Genii held a pistol against Weir's head.

"Who are you?" Sheppard demanded.

"Commander Acastus Kolya, at your service, and you will do what I say," Kolya declared.

A sudden commotion at the door made John's heart leap in hope, only to be driven into despair when three more Genii soldiers entered the Gate room. All three looked positively spooked and one was nearly white with pain as clutched a bullet wound in his shoulder. By the looks of it, his elbow had been shattered as well.

 _Attagirl, Faith_ , Sheppard thought approvingly. _You better be okay though or Buffy will have my ass._

"Ah, Ladon, perfect, dial the gate please," the apparent leader of the Genii commanded. One man, who appeared to be holding a wound did as requested, looking over the system with an intelligent eye before he began pressing buttons. The buttons were pressed, randomly at first, and then with intent as 'Ladon' gained a better grasp on the DHD device.

Thirty seconds later and the wormhole appeared, tunneling inwards before disappearing into the event horizon of the Stargate.

"Eamon, put a bullet into this one, if he's not already dead, we'll be doing him a favor. If he isn't, then I don't want to chance him getting better at the wrong time." the leader ordered, noticing the downed Sergeant Stackhouse for the first time.

"No!" Sheppard screamed!

The Genii nodded at his commander and raised his rifle to dispatch Stackhouse.

However, before either the Genii could fire or Sheppard could mount his own attack, a blade was flung at the Genii from the newest Gate room occupant. Faith's knife buried itself in Eamon's eye socket, dropping the man like a rock. Injured she may be, Faith was still a Slayer and so she _slayed._

Having lost her P90, Faith withdrew her Beretta and quickly emptied the clip into the Genii's positions. Three Genii were cut down instantly, the others having ducked into cover in time.

"Get to the Gate, now!" Kolya ordered.

The man who'd activated the Gate, Ladon, barely hesitated. He glanced at Sheppard, a mixture of guilt and regret writ large upon his face, before grabbing the small pack of supplies he'd carried, quickly bounding down the steps of the Gate room and jumping into the Gate.

Faith was already in motion, however, and was among the men, hesitant to abandon their commander, like a sheep among wolves. Withdrawing her sword, she bisected one of the retreating men in half, removing the gun-hand of another before finishing him with a slice across the stomach that resulted in the man's intestines spilling out onto the floor.

Faith completed the move, spinning around like a dancer before she found herself in front of a man with cold eyes and a grim face. The man held Weir against him with a pistol aimed squarely at her forehead.

The man from her dream.

This was how she was going to die.

"FAITH!"

Buffy's scream jolted both Faith and the Genii soldier, causing the man to physically jerk in surprise. When the pistol went off, the discharged bullet flew through the air at a much lower trajectory. The moment Faith had heard Buffy's shout, she was already in motion, twisting sideways and downwards, but it wasn't quite enough to avoid being hit entirely and Faith let out a soft, involuntary grunt as the bullet entered the side of her chest. Stunned from the sledgehammer-like impact of the bullet, Faith went down on a knee, hand instantly seeking her wound to put pressure on it. But injured or not, Faith wasn't called the Slayer without reason; she ignored the pain and threw her remaining knife at the man, smiling in satisfaction when it buried itself into his upper shoulder, only millimeters above Weir's own body. Seeing the man's new injury and hearing his hiss of pain, Sheppard raised his rifle to take advantage of the opportunity, but Kolya had obviously predicted the move and had maneuvered Weir to act as a body shield once again.

Kolya descended the steps, quickly but carefully in an effort to escape, ignoring the knife that was still sheathed inside his body.

Footsteps echoed in the room and Sheppard darted a glance to the side, just enough to see Beckett, Buffy, Ford, Illyria, and Teyla bursting into the room. Ford immediately took a position at the railing in the upper tier of the Gate room, P90 locked onto the Genii commander, waiting for a clear shot or for an order to stand down.

Teyla raced down one of the side staircases to take a position on Sheppard's flank with her own raised P90, taking a step forward with each step Kolya took back. "You can surrender, Commander Kolya, but there is no victory for you, nor is there any escape."

"And yet I'm the one who has your precious Dr. Weir ready to take ever bullet for me, don't I?" Kolya retorted.

Behind him, Sheppard was distantly aware of Beckett kneeling over Stackhouse, cutting away his shirt to examine the man's grievous chest wound. Buffy slid next to him and searched her tactical best for something, finally withdrawing a vial and forcing the liquid concoction down Louis Stackhouse's throat. She murmured a few words to Beckett than clambered to her feet to check on Faith, who was protesting loudly that 'she was just fine' and that Buffy needed to go 'twist the fucker's head off'. Sheppard agreed wholeheartedly.

But he maintained his focused on the Genii, who had used the distraction of the Atlantis expedition members' entrance to back up several more paces. Eyes hard, Sheppard advanced down the stairs, P90 held ready and trained on the barely visible part of Kolya's face. Ford was silent, watching for a moment of opportunity while Teyla raced to one of the side staircases to flank Kolya.

The Genii leader stepped back toward the Gate.

"I _will_ shoot you if you don't let her go!" Sheppard shouted, glaring at Kolya.

Kolya smirked at Sheppard, dragging Dr. Weir with him as he retreated toward the active Stargate. "And risk hurting Doctor Weir?"

Sheppard was about to reply, with both words _and_ a bullet, when he caught sight of something moving, or possibly _slithering,_ on the ground. It was so incongruous with the rest of the floor that he couldn't help but stare. It was long, barbed, and dark, like a thin tendril that crept its way toward the Stargate before slowly climbing upwards, coiling like a snake ready to strike.

"There is no risk to Dr. Weir, muck," a cold voice proclaimed. "A pity you will not learn why it is unwise to tread upon an Old One's territory."

Kolya shifted his gaze to the young brunette standing by a group of plants. He stepped back, inching his way toward freedom. "And what is that supposed to mean?" Kolya inquired in a tone laced with condescension. He stepped back.

The girl tilted her head and smiled at him.

With less than an arm span separating him from freedom, Kolya sneered and took the last step before reaching the Stargate.

Sheppard watched as Kolya took that last step toward freedom, a freedom that was obstructed by the unseen, coiling, rope-like object that had inched its way up the side of the Gate. The moment Kolya took that step back, the dark thread darted toward Kolya. Sheppard watched with a mix of horror and relief as the object punched through the back of the Genii's skull only to emerge from Kolya's open mouth. The Genii went limp instantly, his body held upright only by the strange rope.

"You can escape his hold now, Dr. Weir," Illyria stated emotionlessly.

Weir, who had been paralyzed as she stared at the—thorn?—that had emerged from Kolya's mouth, jerked at the use of her name. She hurriedly disengaged herself from Kolya and backed up several paces to stare at the sight in front of them.

"Uh, what is that?" Sheppard asked, unable to take his eyes away from the sharp spear that had impaled the Genii's head.

"Barberry is an extremely thorny vine, Major Sheppard, one that can act as an effective deterrent to all sorts of pests," Illyria explained. "One need only know how to coax it to do so in a more effective manner."

Looking at Kolya's suspended corpse, Sheppard was willing to bet that Illyria counted humans as among those 'pests'.

The vine began to shiver and seemed to sway before it gently tossed the corpse through the Stargate just moments before it deactivated. Everyone stared as the vine began crawling its way back to the pot that Illyria had taken a position by.

"Sorry to interrupt the creep show, but if you want to live, then get up here _now_!" McKay shouted. "Twenty seconds!"

They obeyed and moments later, witnessed the bright light of energy coursing through the veins of Atlantis from the safety of the control room. Aside from the Old One, everyone held their breath as the shield powered up just in time to protect them from the wall of water that was threatening to engulf the city.

* * *

 **Two days later  
March 23, 2006**  
 _Atlantis_

"Well Miss Lehane, do you foresee any further difficulties coming our way?" Weir asked gently, smiling at the tired-looking brunette standing in front of her.

Faith made a 'pshaw' noise. "Isolated from Earth and any familiar civilization with only our limited resources and each other to rely on? Trapped in a different galaxy with a race of evil space vampires ready to descend on us at any given moment? Nah, Dr. Weir, I think we're just super."

Elizabeth Weir laughed for a moment before offering Faith a warm smile. "How are you feeling, Faith?"

"Five by five, Liz, already back at 100%," Faith declared proudly.

Weir cringed at the familiar use of her name but didn't bother to correct Faith. If she did so, she would only guarantee its continued usage, _t_ _hat_ she'd figured out a while ago. Instead, she offered, "Dr. Beckett has informed me that Sergeant Stackhouse is expected to make a full recovery. I didn't get details but from what I understand, Miss Summers forced him to drink some sort of vial that she'd been carrying. Apparently, that was enough to not only keep him alive but to also jump-start the healing process."

"I'm betting Beckett used much bigger and technical-sounding words than that," Faith mused aloud, smiling before giving Weir a slight shrug. "Sort of a cure all that one of our friends gave us back on Earth. Limited supply only, I'm afraid."

"Should I ask?" Weir wondered.

The dark-haired Slayer hesitated. "It's comp—"

"Complicated," Weir finished, nodding along. "That does seem to be a running theme in your life."

"Oh, Dr. Weir, you have _no_ idea how right you are. Now, if you don't mind, I have a girlfriend I need to spend a couple days in bed with in order to properly apologize for my getting injured," Faith mock-whispered in a conspiratorial tone. Weir hadn't had the chance to properly express her shock at Faith's candor before the brunette's eyebrows furrowed in thought and added somewhat absentmindedly, "do you have any massage oils by any chance?"

Weir stared at her with a single raised eyebrow.

Faith shrugged a shoulder. "Worth a shot. Alright, see you..whenever."

Without another word, Faith bounced out of Weir's office, slapping Sheppard's ass when the major moved past her to join Weir.

"That's sexual harassment!" Sheppard shouted reprovingly at Faith's retreating form, receiving only the brunette's laughter in response. Sheppard shook his head and continued into Weir's office. "That woman..." Sheppard began, before trailing off with a shake of his head.

"Yes, that about sums it up, John," Weir smirked. "Dr. Grodin discovered how the Genii managed to reach us with a helpful side investigation conducted by Colonel Sumner."

"Oh?"

"Marshall found out th—"

" _Marshall_? You call him _Marshall_!?" Sheppard cried out.

"Well, I call you John!" Weir hissed defensively but was blushing as she did so.

"Oh. My. God. You and... _Marshall_ Sumner?!" Sheppard exclaimed, staring at her as if she'd grown a third head.

"Shut up or I'll—"

"Tell Marshall?" Sheppard asked smugly, cutting Weir off.

"Shut up, _John,_ " Weir growled before backhanding the major in the gut.

Sheppard let out an 'oof' but grinned at Dr. Weir, who blushed again and turned away, pointedly refusing to look at him. "So," John drawled out, "what did the colonel find?"

Still not looking at him, Weir replied in a quieter, more grim voice. "Smeadon betrayed us. Apparently, he was an agent of the Genii. He told Cowen everything about our situation and movements."

Sheppard swore. "And what are we doing about that?"

"What _can_ we do?" Weir retorted. "Manaria is still a useful trade partner and it's not like we have jurisdiction. The Manarians will deal with him. As for _how_ they got here... they managed to produce a hybrid ship using their own technology combined with Wraith technology. It appears to have been a one-time-only sort of ship, according to Dr. Grodin. He'll tell us more when we're able to bring it up from the bottom of the ocean.

John smiled ruefully and followed her gaze to the Stargate, where another Puddle Jumper had returned from Manaria, ferrying people and supplies back to Atlantis. Turning to Weir, John asked, "you say these things happen every twenty years, right?"

Weir nodded. "That's what they tell us."

John sighed and gave her a solemn look. "How far in advance can we book days off?"

Elizabeth Weir smiled and bumped John Sheppard's shoulder with her own. They stood in silence, content to watch as expedition members reunited in their true home of Atlantis.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** At some point in the books, the Genii are able to repair a crashed Lantean cruiser well enough that it was space capable, which is _really_ damn impressive when you think about it. That takes place only a few years after the events of "The Storm". A Wraith prisoner and a crashed Wraith cruiser full of partially working computers and components give them even more of a leg up on making the insertion method I'm proposing viable.

Atlantis did have deep space sensors that detected the Wraith Hive ships coming in at the end of the serious, but they kinda just popped them in without any fanfare. This happens at _some point_ during the season, presumably at a much later point in the season; this is why Atlantis was unable to detect the Genii.

I hope everyone liked the chapter and thought there was enough action to warrant the uber long build up. I tried really hard to make sure all our main characters got their fair share of the violence and make it so that at least a couple of red-shirts died as well as all of the Genii _except_ for Ladon. Let's be honest, Ladon Radim is a badass. I also found a use for the potions/magic crap Willow gave Buffy in the second part of the story!

 **Translations:  
** _Ne, to je k ničemu!_ \- "No, it's useless!"  
 _brilantní_ \- "brilliant!"


	29. Truth and Reconciliation

**— Thor's Slayers** **—**

 **Chapter Eight**

 _ **Truth and Reconciliation**_

* * *

 **the DragonBard:** I believe she broke off the relationship prior to leaving with the expedition. She left that tape for him telling him what was going on. I know the man was seen/referenced again and if I recall correctly, had followed Weir's suggestion to find someone else and move on.  
 **HowlnMadHowie:** TV physics is my only explanation for the distance thing.  
 **Dragonaut344Doomed:** I never explicitly the fate of the Wraith, though one would assume a valuable resource like he would be kept alive for as long as possible.

 **Author's Notes:** So here I am, continuing the grueling journey toward the finish line! As always, I'm doing my best to release well-written, enjoyable chapters in as timely as a manner as possible. I have a pretty good idea of how I want to finish the story so it's really just a matter of finding the best way to _get_ there without turning the final chapters into a rush job. One of the ongoing complaints I receive is my portrayal of Buffy and I assure you, I am cognizant of my tendency to diminish her role and capabilities. I don't intend for her to take a larger role but I'll do my best to give her one that's stronger and less dependent on Faith.

 **Warning** : Love scene incoming. Short and non-explicit.

* * *

#

 **April 2nd,** **2006**  
 _Atlantis_

"I'm telling you, it makes no bloody sense!" Doctor Beckett argued, sounding both exasperated and annoyed. "It's not that I'm not grateful that it saved Peterson but there's no medical reason for that substance to have cured _anything_!"

"I'm sure there's a rational explanation—" Elizabeth Weir tried to add before being interrupted by Doctor McKay's frantic hand waving.

"He's right! Whether it's Slayer weirdness or some _other_ weirdness, that mixture was just a mix of organic matter, an unknown substance that we're _pretty sure_ is nonhuman blood, and...other processed materials," McKay finished, crossing his arms and lifting his chin in a show of defiance.

Weir gazed at the men thoughtfully, smiling slightly as she flicked her eyes toward the doorway. "So, what, you want to interrogate them?"

"Of course not—" Beckett assured her, but was interrupted by McKay's disagreeable snort.

"Yes, we absolutely do!" McKay corrected the Scotsman.

"Well then, Meredith, here we are!" a voice purred into McKay's ear.

"Gah!" McKay yelped, twisting around and falling back until he hit Weir's desk when he discovered a smirking Faith and Buffy standing behind him.

Beckett twitched in surprise but otherwise maintained his composure.

"So whatcha wanna know?" Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow at Rodney.

"What was in that vial that you gave Doctor Peterson?" Rodney huffed, glowering at the blonde Slayer.

"The stuff that saved his life? Does it matter?" Buffy asked.

"Knowing might help us replicate the substance, lass. It could save lives," Beckett replied softly, giving Buffy a heart-clenching, guilt-inducing expression.

Buffy glanced at Faith and received an unhelpful shrug. Cringing, she searched for an answer that might put Rodney off. "Stuff," she answered brightly. _Crap_.

Faith snorted.

Rodney's frown grew into a scowl. "Well, let's start with this: why was there _chocolate_ in it? And why did it smell so good?"

Buffy mumbled something.

"What was that, Miss Summers?" Weir asked,

"Willow, the one who made it...she—" Buffy stopped as Faith began laughing.

Taking a breath, Faith managed to choke out, "she accidentally dropped one of those peppermint patties into the mix while she was making it, you know, like those chocolates you get on the hotel beds?" Faith started laughing again.

Buffy bit her lip to prevent herself from joining in. _Classic Willow_ , the blonde thought fondly.

"She... _dropped_ a chocolate peppermint into the mix?" McKay asked, eyes wide. "Unintentionally?"

Buffy nodded, her smile growing.

"Medicine isn't exactly an approximate thing, Buffy, it has to be incredibly precise or it could cause more damage than good!" Beckett warned them gravely.

"You can trust whatever Red makes, Doc," Faith murmured, giving the man a 'stop being dense' look. "All of our friends are pretty special in one way or another. Red—Willow, she's got a magic touch whether its hacking the government or brewing up some homegrown Dimetapp."

"And the bloodlike substance?" Weir asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Blood," Buffy and Faith confirmed in unison.

"It's creepy when you two do that," Rodney muttered.

"Oh, grow a pair, _Meredith_ ," Faith smirked.

Weir turned her head away to hide a smile, meeting Beckett's amused expression when he did the same.

Rodney glared at the brunette. "One day you'll be in horrible danger and I'll be the only one able to save you. Let's see you call me Meredith then!"

Faith shrugged. "If or when that day comes, I'll get you a date with Illyria."

Rodney blinked and stood up straighter. "Really?"

Buffy sighed. "No, McKay, she won't because despite what she might say, she actually prefers you in one piece." Buffy shook her head and faced Weir. "It was blood, like we said, just not human blood."

"..."

"Tell me it wasn't Illyria's blood," McKay demanded flatly.

"Of course not," Faith snorted. "She wouldn't grace us muck with her 'essence'."

"It was...a certain monster from Earth, nasty bad guys whose blood is pretty good for healing. As far as I know, everything else was just random veggies, kinda like a stew. But with blood instead of broth," Buffy explained then furrowed her eyebrows. "What _is_ broth?"

When everyone aside from Faith stared at her, Buffy sighed and shrugged, "we lead interesting lives."

"B and I came cause we wanted to borrow a Puddle Jumper to take to the main land. Wanted to sit Ford, Teyla, and Stackhouse and give them 'the talk'," Faith spoke up, glancing at Weir.

"As long as you don't have any other duties and they aren't in demand by our science forays, go ahead," Weir said with a nod.

"What "veggies" went into the...stew?" McKay asked, squinting at her in suspicion, "and how would that even cure _technology_. The Ancients' nanovirus, I'm fairly certain, goes a little beyond Tylenol and eating your spinach."

Buffy waved him off. "I don't know, it's not like I'm the science-y one, I don't think there's anything weird. Willow said they were all pretty common ingrediants. What were they Faith? I remember wolfsbane, white slugwee—"

"White _snakeroot_ ," Faith corrected and began counting off plants with her fingers, "nightshade, snakeweed—"

"Hemlock, larkspur," Buffy added, nodding as she joined Faith's count. "We're missing one."

Faith scrunched up her nose. "Pam oil seeds?"

"Oh! Not that, _c_ _astor oil_ plant seeds!" Buffy jumped, grinning.

When nobody joined their triumphant recitation, Buffy and Faith settled down, looking into the horrified faces of Rodney, Beckett, and Weir.

"I'm not a botanist..." Weir whispered, face pale, "but even I know that every single one of those plants I've heard of is poisonous."

"Bloody hell, they use castor plants to make _ricin_ you daft bird," Beckett shouted, his brogue thickening as his temper rose.

"Ah," Faith murmured intelligently. "Well, good thing everyone's okay now. Alright now, gotta jet, bye bye!"

Faith grabbed Buffy's hand and, together, hightailed it out of Weir's office even as questions and accusations continued to barrage them from behind.

"Good thing we didn't mention the poison frog's skin oil and the snake venom," Faith huffed out.

Buffy laughed.

* * *

 **Three hours later  
** _Lantea mainland_

Beckett drew his hand back and then snapped it forward, watching as the fishing line soared through air until it hit the water with a barely perceptible splash. Slowly, he began the arduous process of reeling it in all the while keeping an eye on his fishing companion. "How are you coping?"

"With Buffy and Faith?" Louis Stackhouse asked, offering the doctor a half smile.

"Aye," Beckett nodded, "and Illyria, too, for that matter."

Louis was quiet for a moment as he reeled his own line in and only replied after casting his line back out. "I'm more okay than I thought I'd be about it. I mean, anybody who has spent _any_ amount of time with Buffy or Faith in the field know there's something strange about them. Chosen warriors of Ascended beings? I mean, that's pretty impressive but measured on the scale of the other things we've seen...?" The sergeant shrugged, watching the gently swaying lure on the water's surface with intense concentration.

"And Illyria?" Beckett pressed.

" _That_ is pretty weird, even on our scale of weird. She's only ever been a help to me and mine though, so I'm not willing to throw her under the bus like Ford," Louis answered. "Even if the plant thing _is_ weird."

"It was a bit too much for the lad, wasn't it?"

"It really was," Louis answered with a shake of his head. "Ford's the kind of guy who'll need more time to work it out on his head. Until then he'll keep his distance from her to avoid saying or doing something stupid. He seems okay with Faith and Buffy though. Like I said, the girls' circumstances _aren't_ that weird when compared to the other things the Stargate program has come up with."

"Aye," Beckett nodded. "They're good girls, no matter what Faith would have you think."

Stackhouse chuckled. "They are. Good soldiers—or rather, outstanding warriors and okayish soldiers."

"Not so good at following orders, are they?"

"They aren't so terrible as that, so long as they don't disagree with the orders, at least."

Beckett laughed. Reeling the line back in, the Scotsman cast it back out. "We've been out here for three hours and haven't caught a single fish."

"Good company and good conversation make up for that," Louis returned.

"Aye, that it does," Beckett smiled.

"Teyla seems to be handling it though," the Marine sergeant murmured, glancing aside to meet Beckett's eyes. "She's hard to read but she seems more or less okay."

"When is Sheppard's team supposed to be back?" Carson wondered, looking at his watch.

"Anytime now, I think," Stackhouse shrugged.

Beckett's earpiece suddenly buzzed and the Scotsman nearly dropped his fishing pole in surprise. Pressing a finger into his ear, the doctor listened intently before smiling. "Alright then, I'll be there as soon as possible, Dr. Weir." Carson Beckett turned to Stackhouse and gave the man an even wider smile. "It appears that the words from your lips were heard on high, lad. Sheppard and his team just returned and it seems that Sheppard brought a rather attractive lady friend back with them and they'd like me to check her out, medically, that is."

"Dr. Weir did _not_ say that," Louis snorted.

"Nay, _that_ wee tidbit I gathered from Faith's shouting in the background," the doctor admitted.

Louis chuckled, turning a skeptical eye towards the Scottish doctor, "in rather different words, I imagine."

"Describing a woman as 'bootylicious' seems like something best left to the younger generation," Beckett lamented.

The marine chuckled and reeled in his fishing line. "Let's go, doc. We may have utterly failed at catching a single fish but I haven't counted the time as wasted."

"As you say, Sergeant, as you say," Beckett replied cheerfully.

* * *

 _Atlantis_

"Human?" Buffy murmured at a near inaudible volume.

"Nope, but hot," Faith replied, not even bothering to hide her slow appraisal of the other woman. The brunette bit her lip to avoid yelping when an elbow struck her in her side.

Narrowed brown eyes met narrowed green ones.

"Am. I. Wrong?" Faith hissed, folding her arms.

Their conversation was interrupted when they heard John Sheppard's, "And this is Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane, two...warriors who joined us from our homeworld."

Faith and Buffy broke eye contact to stare at the woman who bowed her head gracefully in their direction.

The brown-haired woman had tanned skin and a beautiful, white, simple gown. Her smileawas warm, genuine, and inviting. She exuded an unnatural grace that only seemed to enhance her already alluring appearing. "It is a pleasure to meet you," she replied softly. "I am Chaya Sar."

"Not human," Faith declared flatly.

Buffy sighed. "Definitely not."

Nonplussed, Chaya Sar simply stared at them.

#

Standing on the upper tier of the Gate room, Illyria stared at the Alteran with a cocked head. Perhaps the Alteran was nothing like those she remembered from the long past days of glorious slaughter but there was no mistaking the being for what she was. Illyria could see the power lurking beneath the woman's skin, could feel the presence of a partial Ascended being grating against her senses. Why would the Alteran pretend or _hide_ her nature? Surely these muck weren't capable of driving such fear into her, so why the farce?

Illyria considered her options, confronted by an eventuality which she wasn't prepared to face. The Old One knew she was powerful, knew that she was steadily regaining her strength but she _was_ cognizant of her own limitations. She lacked the strength to face an Ascended being on any sort of equal footing and it would be centuries, likely millennia before she'd be capable of such a feat.

The Alteran wouldn't recognize an Old One upon a cursory inspection, hidden as she was in the pathetic shell, but it would require only a brief expenditure of power for the Alteran to know her for what she was. That would be...unfortunate.

Faced with such circumstances, it would be rational for her to hide away, to flee before the Alteran lest she be discovered.

Illyria mentally scoffed in derision.

Fear was a weakness reserved for lesser creatures. Though she'd been changed by her stay in the shell, she was nothing like one of the frightened muck that would bleat like sheep when confronted by things not understood or feared. A human would walk away from the Alteran, would leave until the being was no longer present. It was the rational thing to do. It was the prudent thing to do. It was the _human_ thing to do.

Illyria straightened and began walking with slow, deliberate steps down the stairs toward the Alteran.

#

Chaya Sar stared at the two young girls who'd so brazenly revealed a truth, if a partial one, to those around. _Including John,_ she thought worried, glancing at the handsome man who she'd discovered on Proculus. To her dismay, the emotion in his eyes no longer spoke of interest, but of suspicion. It had been so long since she'd had any meaningful contact and now...

"So...anything to share, Chaya?" Sheppard drawled.

"I..." she began then snapped her mouth shut when she was unsure of how to respond. Regaining her composure, she nodded to the two young women. "No, I am not exactly as you are but this is my natural appearance and I can assure you that I am no Wraith."

"Right..." Sheppard murmured slowly, tilting his head to the blonde and brown-haired ladies.

Chaya furrowed her eyebrows at John's behavior. Why would he trust their judgment so readily on the matter? Chaya examined the brunette first. She seemed like any of the other humans but her, and the blonde's, ability to sense her own otherness clearly set her apart. She was dressed and armed just as the others except...

The brown-haired Ancient narrowed her eyes at an odd dagger like weapon that hung from the girl's waist. It seemed to radiate the kind of power she'd only heard of in the stories and records of her kind and there seemed to be odd writing around the hilt of the blade. The Ancient focused on the writing intently and jerked upright when she read several of the words and glyphs. Chaya's heard seemed to cease beating entirely as she glanced at 'Faith' with wide eyes.

"Slayer!" she exclaimed, her voice barely above a whisper that was heavy with awe and disbelief.

#

Faith twitched at the woman's reverent exclamation. Either the stories of the two Slayers' deeds in Pegasus had been disseminated a _lot_ faster across the galaxy than one would reasonably expect or this woman had known of her identity upon looking at the kris. The list of beings capable of knowing what she was merely by looking at the 'Essence Keeper' were few. In fact, being in the Pegasus galaxy meant that, as far as Faith was aware, there was only _one_ race that might possess that awareness.

Buffy glanced at her and raised her eyebrows.

Faith saw the unasked question and knew Buffy had arrived at the same conclusion. The brunette gave her a half-shrug.

"She's cool," Buffy declared, then grabbed Faith's hand in added in her ditsy "cheerleader" voice, "c'mon, this is boring! Let's go spar!"

The Dark Slayer grinned and allowed herself to be dragged away.

#

"Huh," Lieutenant Ford murmured, watching the two girls flounce away. "Guess they like you."

"I believe it obvious that your mutual awareness plays some part in this?" Teyla added the words as much question as a statement.

"Why is she _here?_ " Chaya all but hissed. "She should not be here, she should be on Earth! How could you have taken her away from where she is most needed!?"

"Much has changed since your kind last walked the Earth, Chaya Sar. Come, you and I must talk," a cold voice said from behind.

The hairs on the nape of Chaya Sar's neck stood up and goosebumps prickled on the skin of her arms. Every muscle seemed to tense and though she didn't know why, the Ancient found it difficult to face the owner of that voice.

In front of her stood a young brunette wearing clothing much like the other, non-military, personnel in the 'Atlantis Expedition'. Brown empty eyes and a flat expression greeted Chaya and the Ancient _knew_ that something was wrong with the other woman. Something fundamentally, intrinsically _wrong_ in every way. Something not human.

Chaya wanted to know what it was, to find out if John and the others were in danger, to find out whether she needed to kill it or run from it. But the _Slayer_ lived here and must've surely felt its presence, so if it remained here than there must be some sort of...truce? Or perhaps that's _why_ the Slayer was here, to make sure it stayed in line with some agreement, perhaps?

The Ancient made herself look into old, _old_ eyes that inspired a sort of fear that not even the Wraith had managed to engender. There were few creatures in the entire universe that could cause such an instinctive reaction in one such as she and Chaya found herself afraid of finding out exactly which one this might be.

Gathering her courage, she heard herself ask in a breathy voice, "what are you?"

The woman's mouth curled into the slightest of smiles. "Come, this is not something to discuss in the open."

Sheppard seemed to wake at the moment and raised a hand to bar Chaya's way. "Wait a moment, if—"

"Move the hand, Sheppard, or lose it," the creature interrupted, still offering the faint smile to Chaya.

"Major...perhaps we should let those two speak for a moment. We might have better luck with Faith and Buffy," Dr. Weir suggested quietly.

"But Doctor—" Sheppard balked.

"You heard what the Slayers said, John, I believe it is clear that they do not believe us to be in danger," Teyla stated, gently placing a hand on the Air Force officer's arm.

The Ancient stared, a wide-eyed gaze affixed upon Teyla. "Slayer _s_? That...that's not possible!"

Chaya yelped when a slim hand clamped onto her shoulder with bruising strength. The sensation of the hand touching her exposed skin made her whole body want to jerk away in revulsion and fear but she made herself face the inhuman woman who stared at her with a disapproving frown. "Come. Now."

Swallowing hard, the Ancient bowed her head and followed after the creature had removed its hand to lead the way. She cast one glance behind her shoulder to see Sheppard watching her with...worry? At least it wasn't the dark suspicion that it was earlier. It was a small comfort, but a comfort that she'd need to face...whatever it was.

#

"She looked about ready to piss herself," Ford muttered, giving Illyria a dark glance as she led Chaya away.

A throat cleared itself from above and they all looked up to see Colonel Sumner staring back down at them.

Ford paled. "Excuse me, sir," then glancing at Weir, "ma'am."

Elizabeth Weir waved it off.

Sumner just nodded. "Sheppard, I'd like to see you and AR-1 in my office when you finishing speaking to Buffy and Faith. It looks like their input might prove necessary in this situation. Because you requested Beckett's services, he's still waiting in the infirmary whenever Miss Sar is ready for an examination."

"Yes sir," Sheppard acknowledged firmly, offering a salute.

"Is it possible that she knew what Illyria is?" McKay wondered, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, Chaya obviously knew what Faith was and Illyria seems to have a good idea what Chaya is..." Sheppard trailed off, thoughts whirling in his mind.

"She's an Ancient!" Ford and McKay crowed simultaneously.

"An Ancestor!?" Teyla murmured in wonder, "could it be possible?"

"Meaning the weapon we found might be Ancient in origin," McKay pointed out excitedly.

"Didn't the Ancients come to Pegasus because they got their butts kicked by the other Old Ones?" Sheppard suddenly asked.

Every member of the group looked the way Chaya Sar and Illyria had departed before meeting each other's eyes.

"Let's give them a few minutes, I don't _believe_ Illyria intends her any harm," Weir postulated, "I'm more curious about why she's the only Ancient we've found in Pegasus and what she was doing on that planet in the first place."

"Ford, go ahead and check out with Buffy and Faith and see if they've come to the same conclusions that we did and if they have anything else to add," Sheppard ordered the dark-skinned lieutenant.

"Got it, Major."

Turning to the others, John held up a hand with five splayed fingers. "Five minutes. We give them five minutes before we check on them."

Weir nodded. "Agreed."

* * *

"Where are we going?" Chaya asked quietly, trailing in the other being's footsteps.

"Away from the humans and to a place where we may speak undisturbed," the cold, flat voice replied.

 _Everything_ about this other being was _wrong_. Chaya didn't understand it. She'd seen many terrible things in her life, had seen the Wraith at their worst, had even seen the cruelties that the Lantean's descendants could inflict upon one another, but neither the Wraith nor the worst of men had ever stirred the sort of fear she felt now.

The Ancient followed the creature in silence for several long minutes, going down several flights of stairs before she finally found herself breathing in the crisp, cool air of Lantea. "The South-West pier," she murmured, recognizing their surroundings. There weren't many uses of this particular location beyond that of a drone deployment platform and a convenient lookout position. In truth, the pier was more often a place her people had used to appreciate the aesthetic wonder that was their home.

Finally the other being came to a stop in a small scenic overlook. Resting her arms on a nearby railing, it kept its back exposed to Chaya as it stared across the vast ocean. "I had believed your kind to have perished or to have Ascended," it eventually murmured. "You are neither but I can feel the power within you Chaya Sar. How is it that you're able to interact with this plane? Such things are forbidden by my understanding."

Chaya took a steady breath. "You know a great deal of the Ascended then?"

The creature laughed, a laugh that felt _wrong_ to Chaya, as if it were merely an echo of something greater or something terrible. "Yes, I know much of your kind, Alteran. When I told you that it had been a long time since your kind walked the Earth, I said that out of personal knowledge."

Still looking at the other being's back, Chaya narrowed her eyes. "What does that—" the Ancient cut off abruptly as the creature's name for her registered. An alarm thrummed through Chaya's mind, one not born of instinct but that of long-forgotten knowledge. "Very few people and races remember that name; we abandoned it not long after arriving in the galaxy that was Earth's."

"I remember that, too, and you failed to answer my question."

"I do not have to explain myself to you. My past is my own to share," Chaya declared.

"I will tell you why there are _two_ Slayers here in return for your answer," the other being replied after a moment of careful consideration.

Chaya shifted uncomfortably, dropping her head in sorrow as she remembered the choices she'd made. _Sorrow yes, but never regret_ , she thought fiercely.

"As you said, the Ascended were not to interfere. I saw the horrors the Wraith visited upon the peoples of this galaxy and when I saw that horror being made ready to unleash itself upon my own people, I used my own power to avert it."

"Ah, so you _are_ one of the interesting ones. You are not of Atlantis then?"

"No," Chaya answered. "I am familiar with it, but I am not _of_ it." The Ancient waited for a beat before asking, "and of the Slayers?"

"The blonde one, Buffy, is the elder of the two. It is my understanding that she drowned while fighting one of the elder vampires but was later revived by one of her friends. It is in that time in-between that Faith was called."

Chaya was silent. "I've seen the records of my people's time on Earth and heard the stories told of the Slayers and that which they faced. That they still hold firm against the darkness—"

"Speaks volumes about the ineptitude of their foes," the creature replied dryly.

The Ancient narrowed her eyes. "I would say it speaks of their strength and courage instead."

The other creature lifted a shoulder. "If you like."

"Why did you call me one of the interesting ones?" Chaya asked, her curiosity finally getting the better of her. Meeting someone, or something, that knew so much of her kind wasn't exactly a common occurrence and though this creature might...disturb her, she was not without her own power.

"Those who Asscend possess great power, yet they squander it, content to watch over the mortal plane as if it were entertainment while they fawn over their own power and magnificence. They are as boring as they are pointless."

"And those who interfere are...interesting?"

For the first time since they emerged into the fresh air of the open pier, the other brown-haired woman turned to face her. It tilted its head, studying her. "Yes. Those who dwelt on the Earth before my kind arrived are akin to the Ascended in their existence but even _they_ are willing to indulge themselves in the mortal realm from time to time."

"Your kind?" Chaya echoed. "Who are you? You remember the Alteran name and you know of the Slayers. You were able to recognize me for what I am and speak with such certitude of the Ascended. It is obvious you are no Asgard and unless the Nox have greatly changed in many, many years since our departure—"

The other woman made a face. "Comparing me to _them_ is an insult I will overlook only for a short time. I am known as my Illyria."

Chaya looked at Illyria blankly.

Illyria sighed, "God-King of the Primordium."

The Ancient's brows furrowed for a long moment before her whole body stilled. Chaya's head snapped up to stare at the Old One, skin pale and eyes wide. "Old One," she whispered, backing up a step.

Illyria's lips tilted up as she inclined her head.

Chaya let her body dissolve into energy as she prepared to flee, to warn her kin that the Old Ones had come to their galaxy, to warn them that they were no longer safe. Before she could escape a hand of inhuman strength _pulled_ her back into herself.

The hand of an Old One that bled shadow just as she cast light.

The juxtaposition might've been beautiful were it to be seen in different circumstances, now she just wanted to get _away_.

"I cannot hold you long, Alteran, it is not within my power anymore, but if you hope to spend anytime in this place then we must complete our conversation," Illyria growled, gritting her teeth at the pointless expenditure of energy. Holding an Ascended being in such a state had been simple long ago; she had been able to keep hundreds of Alterans in such a state for hundreds of years without feeling the waning of her power. Now, it took every scrap of strength just to keep her from leaving.

"Let me go!"

#

"Status update?" Sheppard barked out, jogging at a brisk pace with Teyla and Stackhouse by his side.

"Uh, well there's one life form-ish on the South-West pier. No one's supposed to be there so I'm guessing that's Chaya Sar," McKay answered testily.

"I find it interesting that Illyria doesn't register as a life form," Teyla commented idly.

Sheppard looked at her incredulously, "it's creepy!"

"She saved Weir," Louis pointed out.

"I could've made the shot!" John protested.

The other two said a very loud nothing.

"I could've!"

"We know that you are a very impressive marksman, John, I'm sure you would've made your best effort," Teyla assured him with possibly the _most_ condescending tone Sheppard had ever heard her use.

Stackhouse made a low noise in his throat.

Sheppard whipped his head around to stare at the other man. "Not a word, Stackhouse, not a single damn word!"

The Marine sergeant gave him an innocent "who, me?" expression.

"Christ this place is big," Sheppard groused, changing the subject when Louis's quivering lips threatened to damage his sanity. "And Teyla, you're not allowed to spend time with Buffy anymore."

"Why do you think it's Buffy, Major?"

"They're both annoyingly sarcastic but Faith doesn't stoop to patronizing nearly as often," Sheppard replied smugly.

"Not bad, Major, not bad," Stackhouse stated approvingly. "Glad you're getting to know my girls."

"Buffy and Faith would harm you if they knew you addressed them as such," Teyla noted blandly.

"I know," Louis replied cheerfully, winking at the Athosian. "I like to live dangerously."

Teyla hummed noncommittally. "I will keep your term of endearment to myself, sergeant, but Faith and Buffy have impressive ways of drawing out secrets during our...'pajama parties' I believe they're called."

Sheppard came to an immediate halt, not even bothering to look at Stackhouse when the man stumbled into him.

"Did she say _pajama parties_ ," Sheppard gasped.

Stackhouse's eyes were wide as he shook his head disbelievingly. "She has to be kidding. There's no _way_ that Faith and Buffy..."

There was a moment of careful consideration before both men declared in unison, "she's not kidding."

"Are you coming or do you require aid?" Teyla's voice shouted up at them from the next landing of the staircase.

"She really _has_ gotten more sarcastic," Stackhouse murmured.

Sheppard huffed out a laugh and adjusted his P90. "Come on."

A few minutes later and they were on the pier, greeted by the sight of Illyria doing...something to a brilliant light.

"Let me go!"

#

Sheppard immediately raised his P90, sighting on Illyria without hesitation. "Illyria! Let—" he trailed off then as he took a closer examination of his surroundings. So intent on charging to Chaya's rescue, he hadn't really grasped the fact that, despite the clear sound of her voice, there was a distinct lack of people that in any way resembled her.

There was, however, one really, _really_ bright light hovering in midair.

A bright light that Illyria was holding with...

John stepped forward, slowly as if hoping not to startle either Illyria or the bright light, coming to a stop less than ten feet away from the two, squinting at Illyria's...hand?

"Ah...Major, perhaps you should not aim your weapon at our friend?"

The sergeant's voice snapped him out of his examination. Hoping he didn't look _too_ absurd, Sheppard called out to the bright light he assumed to be their new friend, hoping to calm her down, to prove their trustworthiness. "Uh...Chaya, you there?"

A great orator, he most certainly was not.

"John!"

Illyria suddenly stumbled back as the bright light reformed into the familiar form of Chaya Sar. She stumbled into John then pushed him behind her as if she were protecting _him_. "Stay back, John, I will—I will take care of that...that... _demon!"_

Sheppard's eyebrows drew up and he gave Illyria a _look_. She returned his look with one of her own and her look was one that made John feel like, well, muck.

"It's okay, Chaya. Look, demon's a bit strong, isn't it? So, she's a little different, aren't we all? You can become a big ol' light and she's a really scary person who can get even scarier when she gets mad. Not so different, right?"

There were times, entire days even, when it would've been better for the universe if he just kept his mouth shut.

On the other side of the pier, Illyria actually rolled her eyes. It was so unlike the Old One that he might've called her out on it had she not given him the death glare immediately after. He redeemed himself and his sense of wisdom by keeping his mouth shut.

Chaya turned large, furious, incredulous eyes upon him. "Do you even know what she is?" she hissed.

"Yeah, she's an Old One. Buffy and Faith, the Slayers, told us," Louis nodded.

"The Slayers...how can they tolerate this?" Chaya cried out.

"I told you, Alteran, much has changed on Earth," Illyria announced. "If you'd simply cease your effort to express your righteous indignation then you might understand more."

"She is a _demon_ , John! I have to warn my people, they have to know about her presence!" Chaya exclaimed, sounding as if she were talking more to herself than to the others.

"And what will happen to _John_ when you tell them?" Illyria murmured slyly.

Chaya's movements stopped and she turned to the Old One with a dark look on her face.

"The Ancients and the other Ascended beings would attack in an attempt to destroy me, Chaya Sar. They would fail to destroy me entirely though they would succeed in destroying the physical shell that houses my essence. But what would be the cost were they to attack? You know what they would do?"

The Ascended being stared at the Old One, mouth ajar. "They would destroy Atlantis."

"Atlantis," Illyria scoffed. "They would destroy this _world_ and any other that I may have constructed places of power."

"They wouldn't," Chaya objected.

"My memory goes back farther than your race's existence, Chaya Sar. They have before, they wouldn't hesitate to do so again," Illryia answered, sounding almost...pitying.

The Ancient woman stood straighter. "And why should I believe you, demon? I've seen the things your ilk can do from the records of old. I've seen the images of creatures that were once my own people, friends and families whose souls were devoured while they transitioned into something foul and evil. The demons cannot be allowed to have a foothold in this galaxy, we will not let the Stargate become another Hellmouth!"

Illyria raised an eyebrow. "Are you finished or is there something else you wish to add to your rant?"

"Um...what's with the whole demon and soul bit?" Sheppard asked, stepping to side and waving a hand to get their attention.

"So," Chaya growled, crossing her arms. "They know you're an Old One but not what an Old One is? Do they even comprehend the purpose of the Slayer!?"

"We were informed the Slayers protect Earth from monsters," Teyla stated hesitantly.

The Ancient glared at Illyria. "Monster is one word for them, yes. _Demon_ is another and while there are many types of demons with varying degrees of strength, only the Old Ones were capable of driving my people to this galaxy."

"The Hellmouth is not to be trifled with," Illyria replied mildly.

"When you mentioned people losing their souls and becoming—" Louis began slowly.

"Vampires," Chaya replied.

"Stunted half-breeds," Illyria answered simultaneously.

"Vampires?" Sheppard echoed swaying slightly as 'Slayer' suddenly took on a whole new meaning. "Demons?"

The latter wasn't a squeak, not by any means. _No_ , Sheppard thought fiercely, _it was a manly exhalation of surprise._ Teyla's raised eyebrow seemed to indicate otherwise but _she_ didn't understand what a "demon" meant back on Earth.

"Demons are not precisely what you'd think, Major," the Old One interrupted his thoughts.

Well, even if he didn't know what a demon was, he still hadn't squeaked.

"Look, why don't we all go inside and find Faith and Buffy and we—" Sgt. Stackhouse began before Illyria cut him off.

"You may do so, but the Alteran and I must finish our discussion. You fear needlessly, Major Sheppard, I do not intend harm to the Alteran and the air is losing its pleasant smell because of your desire to rut with her. Leave us."

Sheppard flushed and was ready to offer a witty reply when strong hands yanked him back.

"Now's not the time, Major, let them do their thing," Louis said quietly, dragging his superior officer back to entryway that led to the main island.

"Yes," Teyla added, a smile in her voice, "you can declare your honorable intentions to the lovely woman another time."

"It's not funny! We're leaving her with a _demon!"_ Sheppard shouted, fighting against their tight holds.

"We talk to the Slayers and hear what they have to say," Louis stated firmly, grunting as he half-dragged Sheppard with him. "I want to know what Chaya meant just as much as you, sir."

Sheppard sagged and the two relaxed their grip. "Fine. You know what? Fine. Let's go see what they have to say for themselves!"

* * *

"Sheppard, it would be wise to calm yourself if you intend on confronting Buffy or Faith," Teyla advised calmly.

Stackhouse nodded. "Even if Chaya was being literal, Sheppard, neither Faith nor Buffy said anything that would be considered a lie. Nothing that I'm aware of, at least."

"What like a 'certain point of view'?" Sheppard demanded. "Give me a break, Kenobi!"

Teyla let out a loud breath as she jogged to keep pace with Sheppard and Stackhouse. "I don't understand."

"Don't worry about it," Louis muttered, "let's just go see if Buffy and Faith's "monster" are something else."

"Would it matter?" Teyla asked.

Stackhouse shrugged a shoulder, jostling the P90 that was slung across his chest. "Maybe, maybe not. From a practical standpoint, probably not, but it would be a bit of a shock from a theological standpoint."

"How so?" Teyla asked.

The Marine grimaced. "I'll give you a rundown on Earth religion and theology while we jog there. They're at the gym, Major?"

Taking his hand from his earpiece, Sheppard nodded, muttering a quiet, "God, I wish they had more transporters on the piers."

* * *

"So...you guys actually going to spar?" Ford wondered, watching as the two women leaned against the walls of the gym. The Slayers were stretching as if they were about to work out but they didn't seem inclined to move beyond that.

"Nah," Faith shook her head. "I'm predicting angry people coming by any moment now."

"It'd be best if we're not already keyed up," Buffy added, looking bashful at the admission.

"Who's going to be pissed?" the dark-skinned man asked in concern.

"Sheppard, no doubt about it. Dude's all hard up for Chaya and he's thinkin' he has to go all macho to protect her from the big bad Old One," Faith replied.

"I'm guessing there's a reason for that?" Ford prompted.

"We think she's one of the Ancients," Buffy explained. "She knew what we were and Illyria obviously knew what _she_ was."

"Aren't a lot of things out in the black that can fit that bill," the brunette Slayer pointed out.

"An Ancient, huh? Well, it makes sense that Sheppard would be worried seeing as beating up on Ancients seemed to be the kind of thing the Old Ones liked to do, right?" the Marine asked.

"That would be a rational concern, yes," Buffy admitted.

"But only in different circumstances," Faith added quickly, then amended, "we think."

The lieutenant made a face at her.

"Sorry," Faith apologized. "We honestly don't know a whole lot more than you. But if she _is_ an Ancient then Illyria _did_ need to have a chat to get their shit straight."

At Ford's raised eyebrow, Buffy waved her hand about as if to clear the air of Faith's words. "Basically, it's like this, Ford; we don't know what Chaya's deal is, if she's Ascended or whatever. What we _do_ know is that we don't want Chaya to make a celestial scene if we can avoid it. Attracting Ascended beings of any kind generally leads to badness."

"Speaking from experience?" Aiden Ford wondered.

"Far too much," Buffy groused.

Faith gave him a sour expression. "Celestial, Ascended, or _any_ sort of beings not of the mortal plane tend to suck major ass."

#

The two Slayers and the Marine were standing in the gym talking quietly when the angry form of Major John Sheppard came storming into the room. The Air Force officer was followed shortly by the tense but apologetic-looking Sergeant Louis Stackhouse and Teyla Emmagan, whose expression was a mixture of bemusement and worry.

"Is Illyria a demon?" Sheppard growled.

Faith blinked. "Wow. You're just going to lead in with that, huh?"

Buffy elbowed Faith in the side. "Shut up, Faith, time and a place—"

The brunette turned her head and gave Buffy a bright smile. "B, you know I'm good for _any_ time and _any_ place."

Buffy blushed and took a breath before focusing on the angry countenance of John Sheppard. "Illyria is an _Old One,_ whether they are demons or not is open to interpretation."

"And vampires?" Sheppard pressed.

Buffy shrugged and exchanged a look with Faith. "Demons," they replied in unison.

"Huh," Stackhouse murmured eloquently.

"Wait, hold on. _Demons_? What's all this now?" Ford inquired, eyebrows drawn up in confusion.

"The legendary creatures of your world that you refer to as demons and vampires are the monsters that Buffy and Faith frequently allude to as the monsters they fight," Teyla replied.

"And in all honesty, a demon isn't actually what you think it means. Not all the time, at least," Buffy replied hastily as Ford paled.

"Oh, _really_? And what does that mean?" Sheppard demanded.

"Clem," Buffy replied instantly.

"Lorne," Faith added. "Groo."

"Angel and Spike?" Buffy continued.

Faith tilted her head, "as long as Angel has one of those little asterisks that say in the end notes: 'do not sleep with blondes'."

Buffy glared at the brunette, who merely smiled innocently.

Sheppard snapped his fingers to catch their attention. "Explain!"

Buffy smiled. "Well, Clem's the nicest guy you'll ever meet. Even saved my butt a few times. He's a loose-skinned demon and the worst thing he's ever done is play kitten poker."

"Loose-skinned demon?" Louis echoed, "and kitten poker?"

"Well, he looks exactly like the name implies. And yeah, kitten poker. They play for kittens," the blonde explained.

"Why?" Ford asked, curiosity overriding his earlier reaction.

Faith cringed and Buffy bit her lip before she shrugged. "Everyone needs to eat."

"Evil!" Sheppard declared, pointing an accusing finger at Buffy.

"Well, Lorne ain't evil. Green skin, horns, and red eyes—he's almost the exact image of 'demon'. The dude runs a bar in Colorado Springs where he hosts karaoke. Neutral ground nobody gets hurt, human, Slayer, or other," Faith replied on the heels of Sheppard's comment. "Doctor Jackson _loves_ going there and he's far from the only SGC member I've brought by."

"Some of them _are_ evil," Buffy admitted. "Vampires are soulless, literally, and are nothing _but_ evil. But a lot of the 'demons' you're referring to aren't even from our dimension. Just like the Old Ones, they came from other dimensions or other worlds looking for something better. Sometimes those things that are 'better' include hurting humans, which is where the Slayers step in."

Sheppard quieted as the blonde spoke, still looking flushed but no longer quite so angry. Ford, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to bolt the moment he could. "And the 'Hellmouth'?"

"Earth is like swiss cheese," Faith explained. Realizing that everyone's look of confusion meant the explanation had sailed right past them, she tried again. "Look, the Earth is kinda like swiss cheese. You know, solid piece of cheese that makes up our reality except for those few holes? Those holes are like doorways from other dimensions into ours."

"I wear the cheese, it does not wear me," Buffy muttered, quietly enough that only Faith heard her. Faith chuckled and Buffy took the opportunity to begin where Faith left off. "From what I understand, the Earth is pretty unique in that...cheeseness. It's why all that stuff with the Old Ones and the Great Alliance and the Ancients, all of it, took place on Earth."

"Huh," Louis repeated.

"Did we break you?" Faith asked him worriedly.

"No, no. Just need a minute. Or a day or two," the sergeant assured her.

Teyla shrugged. "It is not a mythos that affects my people. I am not concerned by the slight omission."

Ford left the room.

"Guess he was," Faith muttered.

Sheppard let out a deep breath, following the lieutenant's retreating figure. "He's not gonna deal well with this."

"Why do you think we didn't go into that part from the get-go, stupid?" Faith demanded, hands on her hips.

John winced but didn't argue the point. "So what now?"

"Wait for Illyria and Chaya to end their play date and figure out what to do from there," Faith answered as if it were obvious. A sly mischievous smile stole across her face. "Don't worry too much, Sheppard, you still have a chance with Chaya."

Sheppard glared at her and huffed out a breath as Teyla laughed quietly from beside him. "I was going to take her to the South-East pier for a quiet dinner," he complained.

"Candles would've been good for the atmosphere," Louis suggested. "A midnight picnic, perhaps?"

"Pipe down, Sergeant," John ordered, though it was issued halfheartedly.

"Of course, sir."

* * *

"The Old Ones were defeated then?" Chaya Sar whispered, her face alighted with awe.

Illyria stared at the other woman.

"As defeated as Old Ones can be," the Ancient amended with a rueful shake of her head. "And so many Slayers now? It'd been thought impossible to duplicate the process in such a way."

The Old One hesitated before she slowly, reluctantly murmured, "many humans are the same mindless, fearful muck I remember from the days of old. There are some, however, that possess the ability to surprise me."

Chaya nodded her understanding. "I understand the value of being surprised when age no longer becomes a concern."

"What will you do?" Illyria asked when a moment of silence had passed. "Your brethren have either already been informed by the Powers that Be or will react with overwhelming force and destroy this world."

The Ascended Ancient gazed at Illyria for a long time. The Old One still made her want to draw away but the recently acquired understanding of the Old One's position had helped nullify the instinctive fear. Looking into the eyes of the Old One, Chaya no longer saw emptiness. Instead she saw...doubt, or worry, or maybe hope? None were emotions that should've been found in _any_ Old One and the Ancient felt sure that the knowledge alone was enough to make her decision.

"I will keep the knowledge of your presence on Atlantis and in this galaxy to myself," the Ancient swore.

The Old One visibly struggled to express her gratitude, finally grating out a simple, "that is...appreciated."

Chaya lips tilted up in a faint smile. "I imagine the others are worrying about us, shall we return?"

"They worry only for one of us, Ancient," Illyria replied coldly, but was moving toward the central pad of the island as she did so.

"I disagree, Illyria. I do not possess a flawless of understanding of humanity but I believe both Slayers to hold you in high regard...and affection," she retorted.

Illyria didn't reply and the Old One stared straight ahead as they moved toward the city's center but Chaya Sar could've sworn she glimpsed the faintest hint of a smile on the Old One's face.

* * *

 **The next morning**

Faith lay panting on their bed, back pressed against the sheets as she stared out of the window at the Lantean star just beginning its slow trek upward into the dawn sky. "Fuck, B."

A husky chuckle emerged from a mop of blonde hair that slowly made its way up her body, dropping kisses against her exposed skin as it did so. Faith closed her eyes tightly and let out a strangled noise as slim hands cupped and kneaded her breasts. When the hands moved away to press against the sides of her face and soft lips met hers, Faith opened her eyes to stare up at the green ones belonging to her lover.

Taking a breath of air, Faith smiled up at the blonde. "Fuck," she repeated.

Buffy grinned before dropping beside Faith onto the bed. "Yeah," Buffy murmured nonchalantly, making as if to buff her nails along her chest, "I'm pretty spectacular. Gotta admit, if practice makes perfect then being with you has given more _more_ than enough practice to be a rock star."

Faith laughed quietly and pulled Buffy into her.

"The morning is pretty," Buffy observed quietly.

"Never saw anything prettier on Earth, that's for sure," Faith admitted. "Except for you, of course."

Buffy snorted and patted Faith's bare thigh. "Very good."

They both fell quiet.

"Things changed, didn't they?" Faith asked, almost whispering.

"Too early to tell but..." Buffy trailed off. "The demon thing didn't go over all that well."

"Not at all. It's not like there's a ton of people that know about us or Blue, but Ford and Sheppard are pretty wigged about the hole thing. McKay still wants to jump Illyria's bones and Weir and Sumner aren't sure _what_ to do," Faith agreed.

"Teyla and Lou are pretty cool. Beckett's down with it, too," Buffy pointed out, "but I think something's going to happen soon?"

Faith rose upward slightly to stare down at her lover. "Slayer dream?"

Buffy spent a moment appreciating Faith's naked body, glistening with the sweat from their spontaneous predawn lovemaking session before shaking her head. "Just a feeling. Like we came here for something and we've done it."

Faith let herself fall back to the bed as she thought about that. "We'll just have to wait and see then, B."

They both continued staring out the window in silence, the beauty of the silver sheen of Atlantis's spires eclipsed by the rising sun taking their focus away from unhappy thoughts.

* * *

"Thank you, all of you, for having me," Chaya Sar told the assembled group warmly. "Despite the...trouble beginning of my stay here, I am glad I came. I regret that I cannot offer you sanctuary on my world if you ever have need of it, I wish that was something within my power."

"We understand," Dr. Weir nodded graciously. "We were pleased to have you, if for no other reason than to see what life might have been like for you on Earth."

"And perhaps what life might be like for you yourselves one day," Chaya murmured with a raised eyebrow.

"Thank you for taking the time to tell us more about your history and that of the Wraith's, we truly appreciate it," Dr. Grodin added.

"Of course. I'm afraid I really must leave. My people are in danger and I am needed if they are to survive," the Ancient stated, glancing behind her at the active Stargate.

"Will you be coming back?" a soft, male voice asked.

Chaya glanced back to see John Sheppard looking at her with a sad, wistful expression. "No, I must remain on Proculus to look over my people," she shook her head, "but there is something I would like to do." Nodding toward Dr. Weir and Colonel Sumner, she asked, "would you mind if I borrowed the major for a little while."

The colonel's eyebrows shot up but the older man just smiled and gave a short nod. Dr. Weir pressed her lips together in a vain effort to appear severe; Sheppard knew her too well though and she was obviously struggling not to smile.

Sheppard sighed, already dreading the ribbing he'd be receiving upon his return.

"Just be sure that he comes back in one piece, if you don't mind?" the expedition's leader finally replied.

Chaya smiled and took hold of John's hand. Before she turned, she glanced at Illyria and gave the Old One a slow nod. Illyria returned the gesture before turning on her heels to leave the Gate room. The Ancient glanced up and spotted the two Slayers on the upper floor and returned their hand waves.

Tugging gently on John's hand, she led them both through the Stargate where they might find the privacy to learn, to _know_ all that was the other.

* * *

 **April 10th, 2006  
**

"Colonel Sumner?"

The older Marine glanced up from his desk to see Peter Grodin and a Canadian member of the expedition, Chuck, enter the room. "Gentlemen, how can I help you?"

Grodin set the tablet on his desk and pushed it toward him. Marshall took hold of it and examined the display. "Doctor, I'm afraid you'll have to fill me in on what exactly I'm looking at."

"Sir, before the Lantean, Chaya Sar, left to help her people, she assisted us in activating several pieces of equipment that were previous inoperable. Among them included the long range sensor package that Atlantis boasts," Chuck replied. The technician made a vague hand movement toward the window and continued, "when that Dart came by a few days ago and scanned the city, Dr. Zelenka decided to activate the sensors to determine if anything might've intercepted a transmission."

"What you're looking at on the screen are three Hive Ships that are on their way here. The Wraith found us, Colonel," Peter announced quietly.

"We have two weeks until they get here," the Canadian sergeant finished.

Sumner looked at them for a long moment before he studied the display. "Have you notified anyone else yet?"

"No sir," Chuck replied.

Sumner nodded. "Thank you, gentlemen. If you don't mind, I'd like to hold on this for now," the colonel said, glancing at the datapad.

"Of course, sir," Chuck replied.

"Thank you, that will be all for now."

The Marine colonel waited until both men had left his office before he swore viciously. Taking a deep breath, he activated his earpiece. "Elizabeth," he said urgently, "I need to speak with you in my office _now_."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** For the Atlantis expedition, the revelation that the monsters Buffy and Faith fought were actually demons was something previously known only to Carson Beckett from his and Faith's earlier fishing trip. This chapter was mostly filler material but Illyria's nature (and that of the existence of vamps, etc) will be expanded in these last few chapters and will have an effect on the overall story conclusion. The big reveal was pretty much the point of this chapter and I hope I did a decent job leading in/out of it. Once the secret was out, I didn't feel the need to rehash it over and over with Sumner/Weir the others, so that's why the chapter might have felt like it ended abruptly.

I thought about how Chaya Sar and Illyria should meet for a long time, bouncing back and forth between ideas. So, at first I was skeptical about making Illyria all that big and bad when Chaya clearly was the more powerful being at that time. However, the Ancients _did_ spent millions of years fighting the Old Ones before fleeing to the Pegasus galaxy and I figured that's more than enough time for some good ol' fashioned genetic memory to kick in.

Illyria's ability to "grab" Chaya when she was turning into that white energy...meh, I wanted Illyria to be able to do _something_. Getting plants to spear her didn't seem like it'd be enough to spook an Ascended being. So yeah, Chaya turned into a big, beautiful ray of light and the part of Illyria that touched Chaya turned into shadow. Might be lame but I liked it, too bad. That's basically it. Chaya Sar could kick Illyria's ass if she wanted. But the instinct to run stayed her hand long enough for them to talk it out.

Chaya will not be a recurring character and there will be no Chaya Sar/Sheppard 'ship. I know their interactions were a little fluffy but after rewatching "Sanctuary," I realized exactly how ridiculous their interactions were with one another. It was a very Captain Kirk/Pretty Alien Girl-esque episode.


	30. Storm Clouds on the Horizon

**— Thor's Slayers ****—**

 **Chapter Nine**

 _ **Storm Clouds on the Horizon**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This chapter is extra light on Buffy/Faith and mostly centers around SG:A. They simply don't have much of a role to play in this chapter so they've been pushed aside for the moment. In case it's not readily apparent, I switch being using "Fred" or "Illyria" depending on whether there's somebody who doesn't know her identity present _or_ the type of persona she's playing.

* * *

#

 **April 20th,** **2006  
** _Duart Castle, Scotland_

"And now we prepare, good viewers, for the report of a lifetime, a report so classified that only we are its recipients. We've assembled, like the ancient zords of old, to listen to the words of our distant Slayers who, even now, look up to the stars in a galaxy far, far away—"

"Shut up, Andrew."

The camera in Andrew's hand abruptly disappeared with a 'snap' and a flash of light. Andrew made a squeaking sound, one which he believed to be quite manly, and huffed out an irritated breath. Reluctantly, he gave the DVD player's remote to Willow, who was glaring at him with her palm outstretched in a silent, implacable demand. "I'm just putting us in the proper frame of mind," he mumbled.

Kennedy rolled her eyes and shifted on the couch so that her head rested against Willow's shoulder.

"Play it already!" Dawn demanded.

"Yes, let's," Spike agreed and pointed a finger at Andrew, "and if you can't keep your bloody yap shut once it starts, I'll let one of the Slayerettes take a knife to your throat and make a pez dispenser out of you."

Andrew's eyes went wide and he hastily mimed zipping his mouth shut.

"Play it, Wills," the one-eyed man sitting on a stool behind the couch urged.

"Okay, okay," the redheaded witch said, raising her hand in surrender. Pointing the remote at the DVD player, she leaned back and put her arm around Kennedy, just as eager to hear about Buffy and Faith's adventures as the others. Pressing the 'Play' button, Willow grinned when Buffy's smiling features filled the screen.

 _They must be having so much fun,_ the witch thought.

#

"Dear lord," Giles exclaimed, removing the glasses from his face and polishing them furiously.

"So...there _are_ space vampires?" Xander asked. "And they travel in space! And they have spaceships?"

"That all seems to go hand in hand, Xander," Angel sighed.

"Hey! Zip it Fangboy, let me enjoy this for a moment," Xander replied with a huff.

"Well it _is_ pretty cool, isn't it?" Willow exclaimed brightly. "Seems like something that we should've expected, what with two Slayers going off into space, but still, space vampires!"

Kennedy cleared her throat and elbowed her girlfriend in the side.

Willow frowned in confusion then abruptly made an "oh" face, immediately looking contrite. "Well, cool except for the whole, you know, 'we're going to invade Atlantis and suck out your life' part. That part isn't as cool."

"So...was this message just her way of saying goodbye?" Dawn growled. "'cause she's already done that shit once and she is _not_ allowed to do it again."

"I'm sure the bint kept that in mind, luv," Spike murmured.

"Is there a way for us to help?" Xander asked.

"How _can_ we help?" Angel asked quietly, digging his hands into his black trench coat, evidently preparing to engage in a serious brood session.

"I agree with Debbie Downer over there; we have skills, intelligence, beauty and power, but buddy, I think interstellar might be a bit beyond us," Kennedy snarked.

"Um. for us maybe..." Andrew began hesitantly, "but doesn't Faith have some friends that might help?"

"I'm sure if we got this message then the military people already know," Willow pointed out.

"Duh!" Kennedy added helpfully.

"Not those people," Andrew said, face growing red as he pointed a finger upwards. "Those people."

All faces turned to examine the ceiling.

"I don't get it," Xander replied.

Andrew bent down and picked up a comic book laying on a table by his side, holding it with reverence as he whispered, "...if he be worthy, he shall possess the power of Thor!"

Silence.

Andrew squirmed. "You know...gray, short, nude dude?"

"Yeah, nerd, we all got it." Kennedy scowled.

"Mate, I'm pretty sure that he's someone the GI Joes will be in touch with, too," Spike huffed, "and that daft comment seems like reason enough for our pez dispenser solution, Kennedy?"

The brown-haired Slayer sighed and lifted her head from Willow's shoulder, deftly palming a blade into her hand. "On it."

"But Faith and Willow are their _friends_ not just allies," Andrew whined, stamping his foot.

"Friends might be stretching it, Andrew," Willow frowned, but it was more in thought than in disapproval.

"Perhaps Andrew isn't entirely wrong," Giles murmured, "and though I sincerely despise myself for saying so, you might use the device he left you with to contact him, Willow."

"I guess he _does_ kinda owe me one for the whole clone thingy," the witch hedged, frown slowly transforming into a smile.

Andrew looked down at the comic book, studying every color and line on the cover as the rest of the Scoobies began working out the boring details. Slowly, gently, sensually, he began stroking that cover and brought it closer to his heart. "Thor will save them...Thor can do _anything,"_ Andrew whispered.

* * *

 **April 18th, 2006  
** _Atlantis_

"Good morning," Teyla greeted Doctors Elizabeth Weir and Carson Beckett, giving them a warm, if tired, smile. Examining them closer, her smile became more wry. "Ah, you look how I feel?"

Weir blew out a breath, looking uncomfortable as she fiddled with the red hem of her shirt. "Well, we've been up all night studying Ancient and Wraith data. It's not the most relaxing of activities."

After an awkward silence, the Athosian walked closer to them her smile becoming increasingly strained, "you wanted to see me?"

"You better sit down," Carson replied.

Frowning, Teyla looked at him suspiciously. "What is it?"

Weir and Beckett gave each other anxious glances until Weir gave Teyla her focus. "Well, I translated the first part of the log that you brought back and...are you sure don't want to have a seat?"

The sinking sensation in Teyla's stomach began to burn and she knew then that whatever she was about to hear wouldn't be anything pleasant.

#

Teyla waited as the two danced around the issue, explaining what they'd done and the procedures... She sighed and shifted impatiently, waiting for them to get to the point.

Carson, looking at her sympathetically, finally spat out the words she just _knew_ had been coming, well, suspected at least. "You have some Wraith DNA in your genetic makeup."

Teyla stared at him and blinked. "Oh."

Weir tilted her head. "'Oh?' I'm not complaining but I expected a more—" Weir waved her hands at Beckett for help.

"Dramatic reaction," Carson finished.

Teyla made a sour face. "This news is...disturbing, but not entirely unexpected. Faith Lehane informed me several months ago that there was something 'else' inside me, something non-human that she and Buffy were able to sense somehow. Everything that's happened over the last week, the nightmares, the Wraith lab, Charin, they've all forced me to confront this as a possibility. I've been discussing this scenario with Dr. Heightmeyer; her insight has proven to be most valuable in coming to terms with my...lineage."

"Huh," Weir murmured, "it might've been nice for Faith to clue us in, might've saved us some time."

The Athosian winced. "When we spoke of it, Faith stated that it wasn't your business and that there were far more dangerous things running around Atlantis than your 'early warning detector.'

"Put it like that, I suppose the lass has the right of it," Carson chuckled.

"Who else knows?" Teyla asked, worry evident on her face.

"Colonel Sumner's the only one we've told. and speaking of the colonel, he expects you at the briefing in the main conference room in two hours," Weir informed her.

"Very well, Dr. Weir," Teyla acknowledged and turned to leave before pausing. "Thank you, for confirming this and for your discretion."

After bidding them a farewell, Teyla left the laboratory and quickly made a beeline for her quarters, brushing off the few attempts to engage her in conversation by other expedition members. She might have suspected this, might have even expected and prepared for this, but having it confirmed...

It was only when she reached the privacy of her bedroom that the first tears ran down her face.

* * *

"Well folks, there you have it. What are our options?" Sumner asked, eyes hard as he surveyed the audience of military personnel and scientists. Elizabeth had finished the preliminary briefing and was sitting by his side, trying to find ways to save the city from the Wraith like the others.

"I gotta say, this feels a lot like the time we had to work out a magic trick to make the Genii disappear," Faith huffed, "and we're still stuck with the same problem."

"That's correct, Faith. No power," McKay nodded definitively. "And we're _still_ no closer to solving that problem."

"Without power, we simply don't have the means of utilizing Atlantis's many defensive or offensive capabilities," Doctor Zelenka added.

"I think we've already grasped that, Radek," Rodney hissed.

"Well, Atlantis has quite a few combat systems, some of which we've only recently uncovered, and I thought it worth mentioning—"

"Gentlemen," Weir interrupted the defensive Czech, "we get the picture. We have no power, what next."

"They're coming here for the city, right? They want to use it to get to Earth, so we already know our end game, right? We engage the self-destruct mechanism and escape," Grodin shrugged.

"Well of course we escape, we have thousands of life-sucking aliens heading our way in massive spaceships looking to kill us. I don't understand why we haven't already left," Kavanagh sniffed.

"You're a bit of a pussy, you know that, right?" Faith asked, head canted to the side as she studied the scientist.

"That's enough, Faith," Sumner stated harshly, interrupting Kavanagh before he had a chance to retort. "Grodin, why don't you—"

"Oh come on!" Sheppard exploded. "We can't just leave without a fight! We haven't come this far, haven't manged to accomplish everything we've done just to retreat at the first sign of the Wraith."

"And therein lies the problem, Major," Sumner sighed. "I agree with you, but unlike the Lanteans, we don't have a technological edge on the Wraith."

"If they're here to take Atlantis, not to destroy it, doesn't that change things?" Buffy wondered.

"It'd mean they'd have to physically work their way inside," Sheppard nodded. "I think we've demonstrated by now that we can make them regret it if they tried."

"Even if you somehow kill those _tens of thousands_ of Wraith, there's still nothing to stop them from simply blowing the city up from orbit if they no longer think it's worth it!" Kavanagh pointed out angrily. "The _only_ thing we can gain from staying here is killing a few Wraith. We've told the SGC about the situation, we've told them where our Alpha site is, if there's a way for them to reach us, they will."

Weir grimaced. As much as she disliked the man, his summary of the situation was fairly accurate.

"Sheppard, you're checking out the Alpha site today?" Sumner asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes sir."

"Good. Once you give the okay, I want you and Bates to coordinate the transfer of resources and construction efforts," Sumner ordered. When Sheppard opened his mouth, clearly intending to object, he held up a hand. Turning his gaze upon McKay, Grodin, Zelenka, and all of the other attending scientists, he added, "and I want all of _you_ to dedicate the time we have left to figuring out if there's a way to save Atlantis. Review all of the records we've uncovered and look for _any_ possible energy sources or advanced weaponry."

Glancing at Weir, she nodded to the audience. "Get to work."

* * *

 **Two days later  
April 20th, 2006**

Sheppard walked quickly, McKay keeping pace beside him as they entered Col. Sumner's office without so much as knocking. "We found something, Colonel."

"Please, come in, Major," Sumner replied dryly. "And what is it that you've found?"

"It might not be anything," McKay warned.

"But it could be _something_ ," the major retorted, frowning at his pessimistic companion. "We found records about a defense satellite on the edge of the system. It's pretty damaged but it _is_ intact."

"It's _possible_ that we might be able to repair or salvage it. We don't know without more investigation but it's, again, _possible_ that it might be enough to beat the Wraith off," McKay agreed. The Canadian folded his arms across his chest and looked at the colonel expectantly.

"A defense satellite?" Sumner asked skeptically. "I know Ancient technology was impressive, but—"

"Colonel," Rodney interrupted with a huff, "according to the Ancient database, the satellite should be able to take out all three of those Hive ships when fully charged. Keep in mind that the Ancient technology isn't just _impressive_ , it was far superior to that of the Wraith's—they only lost the war because they were vastly outnumbered."

"Sir, we, along with Dr. Grodin, would like your permission to go and check it out and see if it's a viable defense for Atlantis. Even if the Wraith comes back, destroying this first group will buy us more time to find a ZPM or to further shore up the Alpha site.," Sheppard explained.

Marshall Sumner studied the two fidgeting men and narrowed his eyes. "And...?"

Sheppard blew out a breath and Rodney flashed a nervous smile at Sumner. "We want to bring Illyria, too."

The colonel's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

McKay waved a hand at the cityscape of Atlantis beyond the office window. "When it comes to the Ancient language, there isn't anyone more knowledgeable. Her knowledge of their technology is somewhat hit or miss—"

"Probably because she only learned what she needed in order to _kill_ Ancients," Sheppard groused.

"Probably," McKay admitted, "but that doesn't change the fact that she, along with Zelenka and Grodin, would be the most useful...beings in examining and possibly repairing the satellite."

"And what exactly will _you_ be doing, Sheppard? I'm finding it hard to believe your skills lie in that direction," Sumner inquired with an arched brow.

McKay snorted derisively.

Glaring at the Canadian, Sheppard shook his head. "No, sir, I'll be taking a separate Jumper to get their report before coming back here to let you know what they've found. I'll be translating "geek," sir."

Sumner's face remained impassive but the sudden glint of amusement in the man's eyes was as clear as day. "Very well, carry on."

"Sir," Sheppard acknowledged with a salute.

#

Moments later, Sheppard found himself kicking Faith's door when she failed to respond to his attempts to contact her over the radio. With each kick, his combat boots produced a deep booming thud that was making McKay cringe beside him. Several other personnel were giving him curious looks, but Sheppard ignored them in favor of kicking the door several more times.

"What the fuck do you want?" Faith shouted, voice muffled by the door.

"I am not talking through the door!" Sheppard yelled back, and kicked the door again.

"Far be it from me to disagree with your childish, petty behavior, Sheppard," Rodney huffed, "but perhaps antagonizing the person you're asking for help from is the wrong way to go about it."

"Yeah, well, catch more flies with vinegar right?" Sheppard smiled triumphantly.

McKay stared up at him as Sheppard kicked the door again. "I can't tell if you're kidding or not, you know it's actually honey—"

The door slid open to reveal Faith glaring murderously at Sheppard. Her hair was damp, skin glistening with moisture and McKay guessed her to be very, very naked behind the bedsheet covering her lithe frame.

"What!" she screamed.

Sheppard smiled widely at her and stuck his thumbs in his belt loops, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Hi Faith."

"I will end you."

"Did I catch you at a bad moment?" Sheppard asked, eyes widening in false innocence. "I'm so sorry!"

Faith's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What...do...you...want?"

"Well...I was just hoping to get some help from you. That is...if you're not busy."

"I _am_ busy. Go away."

"You _must_ be busy or surely you would've responded to my radio queries. What could _possibly_ be so important that you'd ignore...me?" Wounded eyes gazed at Faith forlornly.

"Come back in an hour," Faith growled.

Sheppard's eyebrows shot up. "An _hour_?"

Faith flashed him a smirk. "Possessing Slayer stamina can yield unlikely but—" Faith leaned closer, her voice dropping to a low, husky, purr, "— _pleasurable_ benefits, from time to time."

"What are you even doing?" McKay wondered, confused.

"Me!" The feminine shout echoed from within Faith's quarters. "Now go the fuck away, _Meredith!_ "

Faith grinned as Sheppard shook his head in bemusement. "One hour, Sheppard, and if you ever try to cockblock me again I'll tell _everyone_ about the time you caught chlamydia."

The sheet dropped from Faith's frame just as the door closed, yielding only a glimpse of the pale flesh it'd been hiding from view.

 _Damn tease,_ Sheppard huffed in amused exasperation.

"You had chlamydia?"

Groaning, Sheppard glanced at McKay, who'd taken several steps back from Sheppard and was looking at him warily. "No, McKay, I didn't, now lets get gone. I'm hungry anyway so let's head to the mess."

"How did you know they were...?" McKay gestures back at the Slayers' quarters as they began walking away.

"Fucking?" Sheppard laughed. "McKay, neither of them were responding to the radio, nor had they taken a Jumper out, and Grodin said there were two life signs in her quarters in close proximity. Knowing Faith, what did you _think_ was going on?"

McKay blinked and shrugged. "Sleeping?"

Sheppard chuckled and didn't bother to dignify that with a response.

They walked quietly and had nearly reached the mess when McKay glanced aside at him with a concerned expression. "Are you sure you've never had chlamydia?"

Sheppard's eyes narrowed dangerously at McKay as two passing female Marines, having obviously overheard the remark, gave him identical looks of utter disgust before proceeding to whisper to one another furiously. Gritting his teeth, the Air Force major hissed, "positive, now shut up and don't talk for the next hour."

* * *

 **Three hours later  
** _Ancient Lagrange Point satellite_

"Well, what do you think?" Peter asked.

"I think that without power, it's useless," McKay huffed then shrugged a shoulder. "And even if we installed a power source, it just isn't _enough_. What about the structural integrity?"

"Well, there's a few problems in the hull itself; obviously it took some damage in a fight or was in the path of an micrometeroid shower. Still, we're lucky that it's intact at all!" Fred exclaimed.

"The records we found seemed to indicate that the platform's power requirements are fairly minimal, nothing like Atlantis's shields or the control chair. It's possible that our own naquadah generators might be enough to power the primary weapon," Peter hummed. "I'm happy you're here, Fred, we could use you on this one."

Inside her suit, Fred smiled brightly at the other man. "Yes, well, apparently McKay was a little too embarrassed to be upfront about it and had to get Faith to ask me instead."

"What!" McKay squawked, "that's not—I didn't—"

"Beautiful women are intimidating, Fred, I wouldn't hold it against him," Grodin chuckled, the smile on his face heard more than seen.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Doctor, I think it's rather cute," Fred giggled, "but I'm much more concerned about Sheppard being the one to suggest asking Faith for help in the first place."

"Hey! Don't drag me into this!" John's voice echoed in their earpieces.

"You think I'm cute?" McKay wondered.

Sheppard's sigh was heard by all.

"Ah hah!" McKay suddenly exclaimed, his EVA suit now maneuvering in purposefully through the interior of the defense platform.

"'Ah hah'? What'd you find, Rodney?" Peter asked, moving to peer at McKay's discovery.

"Access panel. There's still no power but I _think_ I found an access point that we could hook up to one of the generators," McKay replied. " _Maybe."_

"Major Sheppard?"

"One generator coming right up, Dr. Grodin," Sheppard replied over the radio. "I'll be back soon with some materials you might need in order to conduct repairs as well."

"Excellent, thank you, Major," Peter transmitted back. The scientist then turned to face the lone female of the trio inside the satellite. "Fred, why don't you and I start examining the exterior of the satellite while we wait on Sheppard. Let's see if we can determine whether or not any of the hull damage might've disrupted the internal subsystems as well."

"I'll start working on this access panel; I _might_ be able to have it ready for hookup by the time Sheppard gets back," McKay murmured, already fiddling with some of the internal components.

"Sure thing, Peter," Fred bubbled and followed the scientist into the blackness of space.

* * *

 **Nine hours later  
** _Atlantis_

"You look exhausted, Rodney," Weir observed, giving the Canadian a sympathetic look.

The expedition's leader sat behind the desk in her office above the Gate room. Normally, the desk was neatly organized, now it was rather chaotic with various reports and diagrams littering the surface. McKay glanced at the mess; reports from other scientists no doubt, and held back his snort of derision when he saw Kavanagh's report on the "Wisdom of Retreat."

At the side of her desk sat Colonel Sumner, with an elbow resting on Weir's desk and his chin cupped in his palm, looking as severe as ever despite his unusual posture. Sitting opposite to the two leaders of the expedition were Peter Grodin and Rodney McKay, both looking stressed and unhappy.

"Yes, well, I spent six hours in a space suit trying to manipulate delicate, intricate technology while being separated from the vacuum of space by an inch of fabric and intermixed metallic compounds. It has been a _long,_ stressful day," McKay snapped.

"But constructive," Grodin insisted, far more diplomatically than his colleague. "We were able to use the naquadah generator to bring the satellite online and between Fred and Lt. Miller's assistance, we were able to repair a great deal of the internal system degradation."

"What I need to know, gentlemen, is if the weapon will work, and if it does, will it be enough to fend the Wraith off?"

"The satellite isn't exactly a solution, Colonel," McKay admitted, "it's just a stop-gap measure, one that may not be enough but is still the best option we have."

"Will the generator be enough to power the weapon?" Sumner asked.

Peter and McKay exchanged glances.

"Yes," Peter said definitively.

"—ish," McKay added hurriedly.

"Rodney..." Weir sighed out in impatience, giving the Canadian scientist the _eye._

"Dr. Grodin, Fred, and I agree that the generator we've installed will be enough to power the weapon. _However_ , the amount of power the energy weapon requires means that the satellite wouldn't be able to recharge very quickly," McKay explained. "With a ZPM it's unlikely that it would be an issue, but with the power available..."

"And once you fire, the Wraith will know you're there," Sumner finished, "a delay between each use of the weapon would give the Wraith time to react."

"There's an additional complication that if we keep the system powered on, it's likely the Wraith will be able to detect the satellite on their approach," Grodin added with a grimace.

"Does the satellite have any defensive capabilities?" Weir asked.

"Fred seemed to think so; she did most of the translations from the systems we were able to access. However, none of those countermeasures are operable without a significant increase in the amount of available power," Grodin replied. Spreading his hands, the man gave Weir and Sumner a wry smile. "If we keep the satellite powered down until the last minute, we can probably keep it hidden long enough discharge the weapon once without being detected and _maybe_ a second time if they don't react quickly and decisively."

"If they're able to get within range of the satellite, it won't last long. It's damaged already and the satellite itself is a fairly delicate piece of construction." McKay frowned, "for saving Atlantis _this_ time, it's a start, but the defense satellite won't survive any engagement on its own."

Colonel Sumner glanced at Weir for input. She merely leaned back, shaking her head and looking utterly miserable.

"I am not willing to give Atlantis up without a fight," Sumner grated out, "but Kavanagh might be right—"

"For once," Rodney and Peter chorused.

Weir snorted.

"Kavanagh _might be right_ ," Sumner continued, casting the other three severe frowns for their interruption, "about our needing to focus on evacuation. The fact is, even if they need to fight a battle of attrition inside the city to reach the Stargate and their new _feeding grounds_ , they have far superior technology and overwhelming numbers. We have a strong defensive position in the central tower with brave men and women who are all well-equipped, but it won't be enough."

"Not to mention that, as Kavanagh said, if they decide it's not worth it, they can simply destroy Atlantis whenever they choose to do," Rodney added.

"So what do we do?" Peter asked quietly.

"Well—"

Sumner's answer was cut off as a series of alarms began ringing throughout the Gate room.

Chuck's voice blared out over the klaxons. "Unscheduled off-world activation!"

Weir, Sumner, Peter and McKay stood immediately, leaving Weir's office to stand at the railing overlooking the Gate. The shield that sealed the Gate was already in place and the ever-present security team that protected the Gate room quickly assumed defensive positions

"We don't have teams scheduled to come back, do we?" Peter wondered.

"No, all of the outbound teams should be busy at the Alpha site," Weir replied.

"Sergeant!" Sumner demanded.

McKay rushed to the control room, quickly brushing the Canadian sergeant who'd been overlooking the Gate's operations. "Receiving IDC!"

"Who is it?" Sumner asked.

There was a pause before McKay turned wide eyes to Sumner and Weir. "Stargate Command!"

There was a profound silence, broken only by Weir's demand for confirmation. "Are you sure?"

"Positive!" McKay shouted.

"Lower the shield," Sumner ordered. In a softer voice, he turned to Weir, motioning to the Stargate with a wave of his hand. "Elizabeth?"

Weir nodded and the two walked side by side toward the Stargate, a new spring in their step as Earth made contact with them for the first time since their arrival in the Pegasus galaxy. They'd just made it down the steps when Major Henry Boyd emerged from the Stargate.

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : I was originally going to make this into a much longer chapter that included some of the action that's obviously going to take place. I elected to pace it out instead, leaving this chapter as serving to prop up the next two chapters. There are major differences in the timeline/contents between this chapter and SG:A's The Gift and The Siege parts 1&2\. I didn't want Teyla's Wraith thing to be such a huge deal and the occasional comments about Teyla being not-quite human in the preceding chapters made that possible. I'm also planning on ignoring the whole telepathy part — I hated that whole subplot.

Who needs Colonel Dillion Everett with Sumner still there? If I remember correctly, the only reason Everett was tapped into going was because they didn't think Sheppard was experienced or of a high enough rank to lead the defense.


	31. Big Honkin' Space Guns

**— Thor's Slayers —**

 **Chapter Ten**

 ** _Big Honkin' Space Guns_**

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I promised that I wouldn't forget this story and I meant it! It doesn't look like I'll finish the story on the timetable I'd originally set, but damn it, it _will_ be finished. There are going to be a lot of departures between this chapter and the events portrayed in the TV show, some minor and some major, and I hope they meet your approval

On an unrelated note, I'd like to state that while I don't regret adding in the B/F pairing to the story, I _do_ regret making it as prominent as it is. In truth, I kinda wish that I'd ended Thor's Slayers at the end of the second part, where it concluded with an acknowledgement of B/F's relationship without overdoing it (as I've done since that point), and had a hopeful ending that was left open to explore with your imagination. Oh well.

* * *

#

 **April 20th, 2006  
** _Atlantis_

"At ease, Major," Colonel Sumner ordered after returning the younger man's crisp salute. "Take a seat."

"Sir," Henry Boyd acknowledged, relaxing his stance and letting his hand drop from the salute. Taking a chair opposite Doctor Elizabeth Weir and Sumner in the office overlooking the Stargate, he ignored the mob of people and activity below and gave the Marine colonel his full attention.

"Major...how did the SGC manage this? I thought the Stargate couldn't be power—" Weir trailed off instantly, eyes rounding.

"You found a ZPM," Sumner surmised, sitting straighter as the import of that fact sank in. "Can we expect additional reinforcements in the immediate future?"

"We did find a ZPM, yes." Boyd smiled. "When we received those videos from y'all, well, General O'Neill was quite adamant that we send you some backup, despite some political reservations expressed _vigorously_ by various governments. More reinforcements can be expected in four days when the _USS Daedalus_ arrives."

"Four days?" Weir marveled, shaking her head in disbelief. Then, raising an eyebrow and cocking her head, she guessed, "The ZPM?"

Boyd nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Sumner grimaced. "Unfortunately, Major Boyd, four days might as well be four centuries. We have less than a day until three Wraith Hive ships drop into the system and our ability to defend ourselves is extremely limited."

"That's the impression General O'Neill received," Boyd sighed. After a moment passed, he gave the older man a questioning look. "For confirmation, we are still operating on the assumption that their objective is to capture Atlantis rather than outright destroying it?"

"Correct," Dr. Weir confirmed. "One of the indigenous humans in Pegasus who has played a critical role in the success of this expedition has a...link to their telepathic network. She was able to discern a portion of their plan and that they intended to capture Atlantis for the purpose of using it to access the Milky Way."

"The only thing that's held me back from ordering a full scale evacuation is the hope that we might reactivate a defense satellite we recently discovered in this system. Several of the scientists well-versed in Ancient technology believe that it's capable of destroying a Wraith Hive ship," Sumner explained, "but even if that's the case, we're out of ideas for dealing with any ships that escape or bypass it. Without any other options, we were intending on using the satellite to destroy as many of their ships as possible before activating the self-destruct mechanism and evacuating to the Alpha site."

Boyd frowned, tapping the glass desk with a stylus he'd withdrawn to take notes. "What are our chances that the satellite will be operational by the time they arrive?"

Sumner turned to Weir, surrendering to her authority as the greater expert on this particular matter.

Weir gave him a faint smile before facing the Air Force officer. "Major Boyd, We have our best people on the job and they've all expressed confidence that they'll be finished by the time the Wraith arrive. As I understand it, the satellite is in excellent physical condition and it's merely a matter of providing sufficient power and bringing the systems back online."

"Merely?" Boyd echoed.

"Doctors McKay and Zelenka were able to install a Naquadah generator on board the defense satellite and have already begun the process of reactivating it. What remains to be seen is whether there will be any sort of incompatibility in the energy transfer process that's discovered only when the weapon is activated or if what little physical damage they did find will inhibit system functionality."

Pursing his lips, Boyd glanced through the office window at the crates of supplies and gear left near the Stargate. "Most of our heavy equipment," he began, "is intended for surface to air engagement, _not_ for space operations. However, we do have eight 1200 megaton nuclear warheads that have been prepared for use as space mines."

Dr. Weir and Col. Sumner's identical expressions of disbelief drew a light chuckle from Boyd.

Weir recovered first, snapping her mouth shut and leaning forward with an intense expression. "That amount of firepower alone would be sufficient to destroy all three Hive ships."

"It would be," Sumner agreed more hesitantly. "Are these mines detonated by remote, timers or proximity?"

"They're currently set to detonate based on proximity. Setting them to detonate remotely would be problematic; because of the time constraints in delivering them to you, they weren't equipped to handle any advanced communications device. Doing so by radio signal would be impractical at best, ineffective at worse. Setting them to a timed detonation presents even greater risk; even the slightest decrease or increase of the Hive ships' speed might result in them detonating prematurely or belatedly," Boyd explained before giving them a weak smile. "Lieutenant Colonel Carter made me practice saying all that."

Weir smiled faintly. "In that case, our plan is largely unchanged, we should focus on utilizing the satellite first and deploy the mines only after we've determined the surviving Wraith ships' navigational course. If more than one Hive ship survives their encounter with the satellite, losing a ship to those mines might result in the others taking a more cautious approach to avoid any surprises," Weir pointed.

"Once they know that the mines are there, they'll almost certainly be able to avoid them. It's doubtful we'd manage to destroy more than one once they start moving a little more cautiously," Sumner paused, looking thoughtful. "Then again, even if we're unable to stop the Wraith after they pass the minefield, that caution will slow them down and give the _Daedalus_ that much more time to get here in time."

With a shrug, Boyd waved a lazy hand at the equipment in the Gate room. "Operating space mines isn't exactly my specialty, I'm only reporting what Lt. Col. Carter advised me to. That being said, I can tell you a little more about the other resources that accompanied me through the Stargate. Along with the rest of SG-10, I brought you a half company of _extremely_ well-equipped Marines, a large number of Stinger missiles and a full battery of railguns, the same model as those installed on board the _Prometheus."_

Sumner let out a low whistle. "I'm impressed, Major. You weren't exaggerating on surface-to-air defenses, were you? I look forward to seeing them deployed, though I'll admit that I'd rather not be forced to see them in action. I'll be overseeing operations from command and control, but both you and Major Sheppard will be charged with coordinating the initial defensive preparations on Atlantis. I'll be issuing our formal orders later, but I'd recommend that you meet with Sheppard at your earliest convenience. Decisions regarding the satellite and the deployment of the space mines will fall to both Dr. Weir and myself."

"Yes, sir," Henry Boyd acknowledged.

"If that's all, Major, go ahead and contact Sergeant Bates; he's in the C&C right now. He'll see to it that you and your people are given accommodations and any necessary equipment. I want to see you back in this office in three hours to continue discussing our options."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Boyd stood up straight and saluted. "Yes, sir." Walking toward the now open door, he was just about to cross the threshold of the office when Colonel Sumner's voice called out from behind him.

"And Major? I believe there are two young women who would enjoy catching up with you. _After_ your men are settled, of course."

Boyd grinned at the expectant faces of his team before he glanced over his shoulder to look at the ever-solemn colonel, unable to conceal his own delighted smile. "Of course, sir."

* * *

"So where are they?" Jessica McLeod whined.

And it _was_ a whine, Boyd thought bemusedly, and it was even more evidence of how their lives had changed when Faith had fallen into SG-10's collective lap. The two brunettes were as different as night and day, one a scientist and the other a warrior, but both had somehow found enough common ground to become fast friends. So much so that Jessica McLeod, acclaimed scientist with a genius level IQ, would _whine_ over Faith's nonappearance.

Captain Watts shrugged. "Sgt. Bates reported they were in the gym."

"And yet," Jessica growled, waving a hand at the empty gym, "they _aren't_."

"Honestly, you mouthbreathers would be dead meat if you were in the field. Hell, Jess ain't military but the rest of you don't have that excuse; you're acting like greenies fresh from boot!"

Boyd snorted in amusement, somehow unsurprised as the familiar voice echoed throughout the gym. Letting out a sigh of resignation, he ruefully craned his head upwards _._ _Rookie mistake, indeed._

Hands and legs fully extended like an "X", Faith grinned down at them as she hung suspended from at least 25 feet above them. Wedged between two crossbeams running across the ceiling of the gym, it looked as if a mild breeze would've been enough to dislodge her from her precarious position, but she seemed as steady as a rock.

Henry sighed once again, in self-recrimination this time. He really should've looked up; more than a few of their paintball games had been won by Faith's ability to _be_ where no person should be able to _be._

Despite the smile blossoming on the scientist's face, Jessica still voiced Henry's musings aloud with an indignant huff. "How did you even get up there?"

Watts snorted as he, too, stared up at Faith. "More importantly, _why_ would you even go up there?"

"She wanted to see how sloppy you became without her being there to keep you on your toes," a quiet voice breathed.

Boyd _barely_ stopped himself from jumping about five feet in the air and squealing like a three year-old girl when that feminine voice whispered into his ear. Her mouth had been so close to his ear that the warmth of her breath had made his skin prickle and evinced just how deadly both of the unassuming girls truly were. Hell, he'd known that a long time before Bates _had_ told him all the stories floating around Atlantis about their two lethal "civvies."

Roger, on the other hand, didn't possess the same sturdy constitution that he did. A noise that sounded suspiciously like an "eep" escaped the other man's mouth before he stumbled away and collided with Jessica, bringing the pair down onto the hard gym floor in a tangle of flailing limbs.

Buffy stepped back with a grin, giving Boyd some space as he turned around with a raised eyebrow. Aiming for a nonchalance he felt sure was transparent, he gave her a smile as he looked her over. "Miss Summers, you're looking rather well. I admit that I hadn't imagined the two of you scheming to concoct such a welcome party. Truthfully, now I'm just terrified of what else you have in store for us."

Standing up and hurriedly brushing his dark-green uniform off, Roger ignored Buffy's proffered hand and engulfed her in a massive hug. "Good to see you again, blondie! Keepin' Faith on the straight and narrow?"

"The 'straight' part is highly questionable," Faith shouted with a laugh.

Boyd and Jessica gave each other an amused smile at that and shook their heads up at the Bostonian girl.

Ignoring the peanut gallery, Buffy disengaged with the enthusiastic captain and glanced upward at the smiling brunette above them, Buffy smirked. "She's a regular old softy, you just need to know how to handle her properly."

Jessica grinned, following Buffy's gaze. "And I bet you know _exactly_ how to handle her, am I right?" Like Roger, she went in for the hug, whispering in Buffy's ear, "Thanks for taking care of her."

Briefly tightening her hug, Buffy nodded against the brunette scientist's head. "It was all our pleasure," she whispered back.

Jessica snorted and stepped back. "Yes, I bet it was." Looking up, Jessica cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Hey, you gettin' your butt down here anytime soon or are we going to have to come get you?"

"Erm, should we bring a ladder—" Roger stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as Faith pulled her limbs in and fell toward the ground as if she were swan diving into a pool.

Henry Boyd had seen her perform similar stunts before and just like then, his heart leaped into his throat as Faith's body fell victim to gravity. And, just like the previous times, wasn't entirely surprised when the small brunette managed to come out without so much as a wince. Landing at a crouch, she slowly drew herself up as she examined SG-10 with a critical eye. Looking them each up and down, she suddenly grinned and launched herself at Jessica, tackling the other woman and bringing her back down onto the floor with a laugh.

Scrambling to her feet, Faith hurriedly grabbed Henry and Roger and wrapped them both in a hug and giving them each a wet kiss on the cheek. "Welcome to Atlantis, guys, you came just in time to kill some bad guys!"

Buffy nudged her with an elbow.

"And it's good to see you," Faith added dutifully.

"Ditto," Buffy grinned, giving Boyd an overdue hug.

"Atlantis is pretty impressive so far, but I wish I could visit under different circumstances to take it all in," Boyd said softly.

Buffy made a face. "Ugh, the Wraith."

Boyd gave her a half-smile. "Yes, them."

"Hey, Hank, how did you convince Heather to let you out of the house? And for that matter, how did Lucy take it?" Faith asked.

Henry grimaced.

Faith winced. "That bad?"

Boyd nodded unhappily. "Being trapped for years in the event horizon of a black hole doesn't make me any less of a soldier and I still serve at Uncle Sam's pleasure. Also, _you_ needed your butt rescued and I couldn't let the opportunity to hold this over you pass by."

"So, word on the street is that you brought a bunch of big guns and a whole bunch of marines...what now?" Buffy asked.

"Now," Jessica replied, "it's up to us geeks to even up the odds as best we can. Doctors McKay, Zelenka, Grodin and your friend, Winifred Burkle, are up there on that satellite. If we're lucky, they'll have that thing running and even up the odds by taking out some of those Hive ships."

"In the meantime, under the direction of Major Sheppard, our good major here," Roger indicated Boyd, "has us planning to fortify the place as best we can. The railguns are nearly in position and the emplacements themselves are being fortified like a pillbox. Knowing that if they make it pass the mines that their destination will ultimately be the Stargate itself, means that we can plan an effective layered defense without difficulty."

Glancing at the doorway to make sure they were alone, the captain stepped closer to the two girls and lowered his voice. "We've been told that you've seen quite a bit of action with the Wraith, that you were largely responsible for rescuing Colonel Sumner. Give it to me straight, about the Wraith, I mean."

"We can't win a straight-up fight," Buffy said flatly. "It doesn't matter if there's one Hive ship or 100 Hive ships out there because it'll only take one to take us all out. When we entered one of their smaller cruisers, we were able to confirm that had upwards of 1,000 Wraith on board. But those Hive ships? Try tens of thousands."

"Not to mention that they don't mind throwing themselves through a grinder to get what they want," Faith muttered. "A war of attrition don't mean shit to them when they use those drones of theirs as meat shields."

"Long story short, if just one Hive ship makes it through, then it's just a matter of how long we want to fight it out before we evacuate. And _then_ there's the fact that if they decide we're too much trouble, they'll just blow us up from space," Buffy finished, crossing her arms with a decidedly unhappy expression.

"How lovely, so glad we came," Watts deadpanned. Looking to Henry, he asked plaintively, "Can we go home, now?"

Jessica huffed out a breath. "What about the Wraith themselves? We heard a bit about the drones, but...?"

"They get real handsy," Faith answered blandly, "except instead of feeling uncomfortable and possibly violated, you'll suffer a slow death as the Wraith drains your life away until you're nothing but a withered husk. Super strong, fast, a bitch and a half to kill and equipped with superior firepower and technology."

"Huh," Watts scowled, "don't they just sound like a whole bundle of fun."

"It gets better," Buffy promised. "The ones with masks are pretty simple: big, strong and with a dash of sadism. The ones that don't have masks have the creepy-scary thing going for them." Looking bemused, Buffy elaborated, "they're all horror movie, stalker-esque B movie villains, complete with filed teeth, excessive sneering and lame insults."

Boyd hummed. "Well, those "villains" of yours are going to be dropping out of hyperspace in less than ten hours and will be in firing range of the satellite in nine. We need to hold out for just under four days, ladies, and then the _Daedalus_ will be here to save our collective keisters."

The best description of Buffy and Faith's expression could be summarized as _dubious_.

"Speaking of the satellite: you said she was smart, but I didn't know your girl Burkle was enough of a hotshot to be part of the team working on the satellite. Think she, McKay and...?" Jessica paused, giving Boyd a sidelong, pleading look.

"McKay, Grodin and Zelenka."

Jessica nodded firmly, gratefully patting her superior officer on the arm. "Yes. Them. Do you think they can do it?"

Faith and Buffy gave each other a look before turning to face SG-10.

The brown-haired Slayer gave a half-shrug with a tight-lipped smile. "Clock is tickin', but if anyone can—"

"—they can," Buffy finished with an affirming nod.

"Well, okay then. Sure hope you're right," Watts murmured. "Come on, ladies, we need your help to do some heavy lifting."

Jessica gave the two Slayers a smirk. "Yeah, those railguns won't move themselves."

Faith perked up. "I get to play with the railguns?"

Boyd felt slapping his face into his palm. "Faith, railguns are _not_ to play with."

* * *

 **April 20th, 2006**  
 _Ancient Lagrange Point satellite_

"Alright...I think this thing is...just...about..."

A shudder ran beneath McKay's feet as the Naquadah generator cycled on.

"Fantastický!" Zelenka shouted into the radio channel. "Jsme v podnikání!"

McKay rolled his eyes. "English!"

Clearing his throat, Radek said, "The power is successfully connecting to the satellite's system and the output is significantly higher than before. I do not believe it will be much time until critical systems can be brought online safely."

Grodin made a surprised, pleased sound. "Any estimate on when we can get artificial gravity?"

"Even more importantly," McKay interjected, "we need to know how quickly the weapon can be charged from a cold start and if there's excess power for defensive countermeasures?"

"Might be useful to know if that generator will be stable enough for more than one go round," a voice thick with a Texan drawl murmured, "don't want this thing blowing up in our faces, now do we?"

"That's a good point, Fred," Peter added. "Add it to the list of things we need to know _yesterday_."

"Yes, yes, I understand. We are pressed for time, hold on to your cattle," Radek huffed irritably.

"Horses," McKay corrected automatically.

"Drž hubu!"

"English!"

#

Dr. Peter Grodin bit his lip as their small group crowded around the display panel, reviewing the information that was streaming into view via a series of fluctuating graphs and numbers. "Definitely _enough_ power."

"Charge rate leaves a bit to be desired," Fred observed. "If we have to keep the platform running cold and wait till the last minute to charge it up and fire, ain't no way we can take out all three ships before they tear this place apart."

Zelenka kicked off from the floor of the control room, floating to a separate access panel. "But if it _is_ strong enough to destroy these Hive ships, which it appears to be, then taking down even one will have made this trip worth it, yes?"

"And the power fluctuations?" Grodin asked.

McKay swiveled in his spacesuit to face the other man. "A necessary risk."

"Alright, if you say so," Grodin murmured dubiously. Then, adjusting the channel of his radio with his suited hand, sent a new message out. "Lieutenant, go ahead and give Col. Sumner our report. Make sure he knows that, at this rate, we shouldn't have a problem getting the satellite online."

All four of the satellite's occupants resumed their work, sluggishly maneuvering themselves throughout the control room in an attempt to reanimate the weapon buried within the satellite's hull.

Meanwhile, inside the safety of the Puddle Jumper, Lou Miller activated the more advanced communication system. "Colonel Sumner, this is Lieutenant Miller, Dr. McKay and the others _were_ able to bring the satellite online and were able to confirm that its weapon system is fully intact."

* * *

 **Two hours later**

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have successfully developed a method of delaying and possibly defeating the incoming Wraith ships and we intend to take advantage of it. Every moment of peace we're given is another moment we have to obtain a ZPM, the power source that will help secure our safety in a way that will endure not just from crisis to crisis, but to a degree of permanence that we have not yet enjoyed in Pegasus," Elizabeth Weir announced to the crowd of people on the floor of the Gate room. "But that won't be possible if we lose Atlantis. It won't be possible for us to continue our mission here unless we survive to _find_ that ZPM.

"Atlantis has become our home and I do not intend to sit idly by and watch it be destroyed. And if we find ourselves having to retreat, that is exactly what we'll be forced to do in order to safeguard Earth from the Wraith. The majority of our non-military population has already been evacuated to the Alpha site. Those of you remaining that don't possess either combat or medical training, will be sent to the Alpha site with enough supplies to ensure self-sufficiency if Atlantis should fall." Weir stepped back and nodded to Col. Sumner.

"In conjunction with Majors Boyd and Sheppard, we've created a list of the non-military personnel in this room that we request stay to assist in the defense of Atlantis. Make sure you understand, it is a _request_ and no one will think any less of you should you decline. That list has been posted onto the wall next to the DHD." Standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back, Marshall Sumner continued, "To military personnel, you'll be contacted by your fireteam leader with duty assignments and rotations. The Wraith are expected to arrive in-system within a matter of hours, and the best we can do is to make sure we give them one hell of a welcome should they darken our doorstep."

The Marine unclasped his hands and placed them on the railing in front of him, leaning over to gaze over the assemblage. "We have four days until reinforcements arrive, four days until the USS _Daedalus_ arrives, armed to the teeth and equipped with Asgard technology. If we cannot destroy them outright, then by god we'll outlast them and let our space forces clean up whatever's left over."

One of the Marines that had accompanied Boyd pumped a fist in the air, shouting "Oohrah!"

The call was quickly taken up by the other Marines, creating a veritable roar of battle cries.

Once the din had finally subsided into the quieter buzz of dozens of frenzied people going about their duties, Dr. Weir glanced aside at Sumner with a raised eyebrow and the ghost of a smile upon her face. "Well, you're no George C. Scott, but you look one helluva lot better in a uniform than he ever did."

Marshall smiled for a brief moment before his more customary frown stole its position back. "Are you sure you won't—"

"I'm staying here," Weir affirmed stubbornly. "I'll be staying in the C&C, but I refuse to leave unless we determine that activating the self-destruct system is absolutely necessary."

Sumner's lips thinned but no verbal protest was forthcoming; he knew better then to push her once her heels had dug in and those heels of hers were about as firmly planted as they could possibly be. "Alright, Elizabeth. I need to check on Dr. Kavanagh and Sheppard and Boyd to talk about those space mines and the city's defenses."

Weir nodded. "Lieutenant Miller is on his way back from the satellite with Dr. Zelenka. Radek will be working to adjust those new Naquadah generators to the control chair, see if we can't give enough juice to engage the weapon system, or possibly even the shield."

Sumner blew out a breath and spoke in a much quieter voice. "Illyria is staying on the platform with McKay and Grodin?"

"Yes. They reported that the satellite can be operated without supervision, but because they'll be operating from a 'cold boot' they'll need to be physically present until the systems are online. Illyria might be the most...capable of fighters, but her knowledge of the Ancients make her even more valuable above us on that satellite."

"I don't care what she is or what she can do so long as she can give us more time. Kavanagh is lamentably correct in his assessment about our prospects; we can only _delay_ the Wraith and unless they are soundly defeated or the city is reequipped with a ZPM, we are essentially helpless. I fear that, even if we're able to destroy the three Hive ships with the satellite and the mines, we'll still have to destroy the city unless we're assigned permanent protection from the _Daedalus_ ," Col. Sumner admitted.

"Well," Weir said with a wan smile, "all we can do is hope."

"Hope isn't that effective of an armor against Wraith stun rounds or energy weapons, Elizabeth," Sumner returned dryly. "For now, I'll put my trust in things a little more tangible than that, like high-powered ballistic projectiles and nuclear fission; they are _far_ more reliable in my experience."

Weir huffed and gave the older man a disgusted face. " _Marines_."

* * *

 **Five hours later**  
 _Ancient Lagrange Point satellite_

"I've found the switch to initialize the gravity!"

McKay blinked and frowned. "Okay, just give me a sec—"

There was a thrum that he could feel vibrating through the metal beneath his glove before McKay felt his body falling in what used to be a zero-g environment. He let out a startled yelp, hands clawing upwards for something to hold onto but his thick gloves were unable to find any purchase. He knew he was about to hit the floor any moment and closed his eyes, hoping that the fall wouldn't be hard enough to injure his back. He never impacted against the floor, however, because he was jerked to a halt by a slim, gloved hand that had clamped around his bicep, leaving him dangling in the air with the faceplate of his helmet staring into Fred's.

Having heard McKay's startled shout, Peter swiveled around from the control panel as quickly as he could in the bulky spacesuit. "Dr. McKay! Rodney! Are you alright?!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay. You might've given me a bit more warning than that; I could've seriously been injured! It's only because of Fred here that I didn't land on my back!" Rodney snarled.

Peter looked down at his feet, letting out an audible breath. "I'm sorry, Rodney."

McKay opened his mouth to respond when his suit was nudged by Fred who was giving him a very Illyria-like glare. "Boys, I don't think this is the time to fight," she said softly, "I think we'd be much better off if we figured out how to turn on the environmental systems so we can take off these suits."

" _That_ is a good idea," Peter hurriedly replied, glancing nervously at McKay. "I didn't see anything resembling life support systems on the main console; it's possible that one of the access panels on the upper levels might have that function, but we'll have to disable gravity every time we want to go up or down."

McKay nodded, the movement partially concealed by the bulky helmet. "Yes, get life support online and then we focus on making sure this satellite can fire more than once; I'm _still_ worried about those damn power fluctuations. I would hate for it to overload or fail just when we need it."

"We _might_ be able to rig some form of remote control system that would allow us to operate the satellite from the Jumper, but one or more of us will have to stay onboard for as long as possible to initialize the system," Peter murmured.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Focus, boys. Dr. McKay, why don't you look into making sure the Naquadah generator is as stable as it can possibly be and that the systems it's connected with can adequately handle the amount of energy that'll be running through the conduits. Dr. Grodin and I will find and enable life support."

Peter Grodin and McKay both nodded. "We don't have much time," Peter warned, "we only have about three hours."

"Then stop wasting it by talking," Fred snapped.

McKay turned away to hide his grimace. There'd definitely been just a little too much Illyria in that rebuke than he was comfortable with. Seeing the other man's crestfallen expression, McKay was pretty sure that, this time, Fred's sudden lack of accent had been overlooked. _Oh well you gotta take what you can get_ , he inwardly grumbled.

* * *

 **Two hours later  
** _Atlantis_

"Energy readings indicate several ships are dropping out of hyperspace, sir!" Sergeant Chuck reported curtly, the Canadian's fingers dancing over the keys as he looked over the readings. "Three Wraith Hive ships exited hyperspace just past the second planet in the system on a direct course to Lantea. Their course should take them past the defense satellite in approximately 45 minutes. Estimated time until they reach Lantean orbit at current sublight speed approximately ten hours."

"Then they aren't taking any notice of the defense satellite or aren't bothering to avoid it," Sumner exhaled a long breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. _One obstacle avoided, a thousand more to go._

"Hive ships now accelerating, estimated time until they reach satellite now 45 minutes and Lantea in six hours," Chuck reported.

Sumner winced.

"If that defense satellite can take them by surprise and inflict some real damage, I'm willing to bet that they'll be much more cautious in their approach," Weir observed through pursed lips. "I doubt their caution will result in a prolonged delay, but every hour helps when we have the Wraith on our doorstep while the _Daedalus_ is still about three days away."

Sumner glanced at the dark-haired woman. "Believe it or not, Dr. Weir, that is a fact that hasn't gone unnoticed by this particular Marine. If we're lucky the satellite will do our job for us, but if the Wraith aren't entirely destroyed that caution may inhibit the mines' effectiveness."

"About the mines, Marshall... You _did_ hear Radek and McKay's warning about the mines right? We were both in the same room at the time, so I have to assume so, but—"

"Elizabeth," Col. Sumner sighed tiredly, resting a palm on the collar of her red shirt. "What would you have me do? I heard Dr. Zelenka's warning, yes, but if we can neutralize those Wraith ships then I'd happily sacrifice our long-range sensors to do so. I did, however, take your comments to heart and preserved several of the mines here for our own use if required. Sheppard's idea for a kamikaze attack was, if a little more theatrical than necessary, not unsound."

Weir scowled as she turned to face Sumner. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."

"There's that word again," Marshall Sumner observed with the slightest of smiles. His smile dimmed before he turned to Chuck. "Sergeant, what does our satellite team have to report?"

"Lieutenant Miller and Dr. McKay are on the Puddle Jumper, docked with the satellite for emergency extraction. Miss Burkle and Dr. Grodin are both inside the satellite performing last minute maintenance and adjusting the automatic targeting system. They'll have to remain aboard to initiate the reactor and power the weapon, but they both intend to leave with Miller once the satellite has engaged the Wraith."

"Cutting it a little close there," Weir murmured worriedly.

"Let's just _hope_ that all goes according to plan," Sumner replied gravely.

* * *

 **Thirty minutes later  
** _Ancient Lagrange Point satellite_

"Why are we letting Fred stay on the satellite? Shouldn't she be up here?" Lt. Lou Miller asked for the umpteenth time.

McKay rolled his eyes and barely resisted the urge to scoff but made the mistake of glancing at the worried expression on the Air Force lieutenant's face. Rodney McKay lost his ability to resist and scoffed profusely, "I'm pretty sure Fred knows how to take care of herself, just make sure you can get us all out alive, got it?"

"Once they fire, they'll have to run like the devil himself were after them, are you sure there won't be a problem with the satellite?" Lou pressed.

McKay, sitting in the pilot's side of the Puddle Jumper, _glared_ at Lou. "Oh, Lieutenant, of course I'm sure that this advanced weapons platform belonging to a technologically superior species that's been jury-rigged to accept our crude power source will operate perfectly without any complications at all. Ah, that's right, I forgot to mention that it was already damaged when we first set foot upon it. Nope, no worries at all."

"No need to get snappish... _Meredith_ ," Lou hissed back.

McKay folded his arms sullenly and stared at the scanner for a solid minute before stealing Miller's radio from the man's chest pocket. "Grodin, Burkle, how are we doing?"

#

Illyria glanced at the male working beside her, tapping furiously at the controls of the Alteran access console. It wouldn't be long now until the Wraith arrived, and while they might destroy one, even two of their ships, it was...improbable that they'd destroy all three. The muck had done an impressive job cobbling together their primitive machinery to the more advanced Alteran device but the attempt to destroy all three Wraith ships was an ill-fated venture.

McKay's voice suddenly blared through the ear piece and she barely withheld a derisive sneer as the Canadian expressed his worry yet again.

 _Why did I ever let that irritating buffoon coax me into coming here?_

Perhaps the dark-haired Slayer had been correct; she _had_ become far too malleable when given the praise and homage that befit a creature such as she. That the possibility of her being manipulated existed was a grave insult, but that was now an entirely irrelevant issue. Regardless of the reason for her standing on this fragile, ancient piece of technological ingenuity, she'd come to understand some time ago that the danger stalking toward her represented a threat more dire than any she'd yet faced in this galaxy. Were she to be placed in a room full of Wraith warriors, she would walk out of the room mere heartbeats later, wearing their intestines as human women wore their diamond necklaces. Were she to be stolen away and transported aboard their ships, she would tear every Wraith aboard, limb by limb until the sounds of their screams rang through the corridors in a harmonious symphony.

But such glorious carnage wasn't available to her now, unfortunately. Trapped as she was on this metal construct of the Alterans, she could do nothing but assist the humans as those massive behemoths prepared to unleash their weapons of such power that they posed a genuine threat to her.

Illyria had never been the sort of creature to experience fear; no being, place, or thing had ever induced the crippling emotion humans felt in such abundance. Indeed, for all of the humans' fear and morbid obsession with death, it was yet another petty, mortal concept that she'd never experienced. Such was the gift of immortality.

She did, however, loath the idea of being trapped as she'd been in the Deeper Well. Now, on this satellite, she found herself unable to fight and protect the shell she'd come to...value. Despite the glaring inadequacies of the human form, it was a far worse fate to be trapped in the vastness of space until a new form was available or she'd gained enough strength to create one on her own. That would be a scenario to be avoided at all costs; spending thousands of years trying to regain her strength in a human form would be bad enough, to spend even longer doing so as aimless energy would be...tedious.

Touching the irritating device attached to her ear, she plastered on a wide smile for the other human's benefit as she responded to McKay's inane query. Peter seemed to be disgustingly sensitive, even for one of the muck, and it was best to keep him content in his work rather than have him babble at her in an attempt to convey reassurance. "Don't worry, Rodney, we're just fine. Just give us a buzz when they're here and we'll give them a real Texas welcome!"

Peter stopped working and stared at her in fascination.

"Get back to work!" she snapped and was gratified when he leaped to obey. Even better, McKay had apparently been shocked into silence by her disgustingly overt display of human mannerisms.

Several more minutes of silence passed before Dr. Grodin suddenly slammed a fist into the console. "These power readings keep fluctuating! The weapon should discharge safely once, but after that it has as much of a chance of blowing _us_ up as it does _them._

Illyria stared at him before turning to the readings on her own console.

"Guys," McKay spoke softly into the radio channel, "they'll be right over you in about five minutes."

"McKay, we have a problem," Peter reported.

* * *

 **Five minutes later  
** _Atlantis_

"Colonel? What's going on?" Faith asked in a nearly breathless voice as she joined him in the C&C. "Il—Fred?"

A heartbeat passed before Buffy, Major Boyd and SG-10 all jogged into the Control room behind her, Buffy standing immediately by her side and the others standing at military attention on her flank.

Sumner waved away their salutes and focused on Faith. "Miss Burkle is currently on the defense satellite with Dr. Grodin. The current plan is for them to wait till the nearest Wraith ship passes them at sublight, then power up the satellite and discharge the weapon from its relative point of safety."

Faith frowned. "And? You called me here, Colonel, has something happened?"

The colonel gave her an irritated look. "No, Faith, not yet, at least," he stated just a little too calmly for it to be a genuine nonissue, "I just thought you should know that the Wraith Hive ship we've designated as the primary target is passing by the Hive ship as we speak."

Faith opened her mouth and snapped it shut. "Thanks for telling me," she offered meekly. "Would you mind if I stayed here to observe?"

"As you noted earlier, I _did_ call you here. That goes for the rest of your entourage as well. In fact, why—"

"Sir!" a male voice cut off the colonel's comment as one of the Air Force technical sergeants monitoring the situation waved a hand at Sumner.

"Excuse me," Sumner stated politely, but had already departed to check on whatever the sergeant had found by the time Faith had opened her mouth to respond.

"Looks like shit's about to get real," Faith muttered to Buffy.

The other Slayer just nodded, eyes squinting at the nearest display.

"Don't worry, Faith, I'm sure Fred will be okay. She'll be back here in no time," Roger enthused, bumping her shoulder with his own.

Faith shared a discretely amused look with Buffy but otherwise remained silent as she, too, focused on the screen.

#

 _Ancient Lagrange Point satellite_

"Initialize the Naquadah generator," McKay ordered.

Peter glanced at Illyria and offered a wordless expression she took to mean as yet another offer of reassurance. She ignored him and continued looking over the satellite's power grid; a system that had been giving them trouble ever since they'd enabled the satellite that first time.

"Generator powering on, estimate time until sufficient charge for weapon at...three minutes," Grodin announced.

"Then get yourselves ready to leave," Lt. Miller interjected. "The moment you activate that weapon, I want you on the Puddle Jumper. I don't fancy my chances in taking one of those Hive ships head to head, copy?"

"Don't you worry, Lou, we'll head back as soon as we make sure it's capable of firing again," Illyria added cheerfully.

"It won't take as long to power the second blast as it does the first, maybe 90-120 seconds if our earlier data was correct," McKay stated, "but they'll be able to detect the energy buildup maybe 30 seconds before you even fire. Those Hive ships might not be the most maneuverable, but they're fast once they get going. If they turn around to engage you, it won't take them more than two minutes to get within firing range."

"So no time for a third shot," Grodin finished.

Despite the fact that only Miller could see him in the Puddle Jumper, McKay couldn't stop himself rolling his eyes and waving his hands in agitation. "No, and don't forget about that power fluctuation that you've somehow been unable to fix!"

Illyria paused in her observation of the Alteran console and tapped her earpiece and spoke with a voice colder than either Miller or Grodin were used to. "McKay. Be quiet, Peter and I are working."

After a pause, a sulky, "Fine," echoed over the radio.

"He's not wrong about the power issue, Fred," Grodin said, glancing at the Old One.

"I assure you Peter, I haven't forgotten." Illyria shrugged, "but there's nothing to do about it now. How much longer until the weapon is charged?"

"45 seconds."

Illyria glanced out of the viewport and let herself stop thinking as she took in the odd beauty of the looming Hive ship. The Wraith themselves might be despicably weak but she found their ships oddly compelling. Perhaps it was the idea of being surrounded by something organic rather than trapped in the human world surrounded by artificial landscapes and concrete jungles. A pang of emotion that she'd rather not explore rang through her as she thought of Earth and shook it off, moving back a few steps to take a position by the weapons console. Tapping several keys, she examined the Wraith ship with a cocked head, readying herself to destroy it with the Alteran energy weapon.

"Hive ships are decelerating, looks like they've caught on!" Miller announced, his voice leaking tension through their radio channel.

Both Grodin and Illyria watched the plot, the former holding their breath and the latter, well, bored.

"Still decelerating, as long as they don't fully turn around before we fire, we should have enough time for a second shot," Peter whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.

"15 seconds," Miller counted.

"The nearest Hive ship is approximately 1.2 light seconds, targeting parameters are set for a lateral trajectory amidships."

"5 seconds, the Wraith ships are altering course!"

Illyria glanced up at Peter, who returned her look and nodded with a smile that was all teeth.

Fingers dancing over the console, she tapped the necessary key and called into the radio, "Firing."

A tremor ran through the platform upon which they stood as ancient mechanisms stirred to life for the first time in millennia. A surge of visible energy raced from the Naquadah generator and into the satellite's systems, starting a chain reaction that quickly coalesced into a bright emerald beam of light blasting out into space. The continuous beam of energy continued to beam out from the satellite, the power draw causing sparks to rain down upon Peter Grodin and Illyria. Neither of the two paid the sparks any mind, however, so caught up in the weapon's progress as they were.

"Estimated impact in 5 seconds," Grodin announced.

There was a silence that seemed to last for an eternity as the green beam shot out through the darkness of space until the beam of energy finally slammed into the Hive ship, boiling armor and hull away as the energy beam tore through the Hive ship like a hot knife through butter. The green beam finally emerged from the other side of the ship, having fully bisected the ship into two large sections that began to drift through space. The damage wasn't done there, howver, soon secondary explosions began ripping the two pieces apart, casting an even greater debris field as the ship gradually disintegrated.

"It's a hit" Peter crowed.

And then the control room of the satellite burst into a shower of sparks as the final pulse of the weapon overloaded the system, sending powerful energy fluctuations that threatened to destabilize the entire system and blast the platform apart. Girders and metallic plates rained into the satellite's control room and the showering sparks turned into a small fire.

#

"You got one!" McKay cheered and quickly reached for the longer-ranged Ancient communications system. "Atlantis, this is Dr. McKay, one Hive ship has been destroyed. I repeat, one Hive ship has been destroyed.

"Terrific news, Rodney. What's the status of Dr. Grodin and Miss Burkle?" Dr. Weir replied, speaking loudly over the cheers ringing in the Atlantis control room.

Before McKay could get or even respond, Sumner added, "How are the Wraith reacting? Will you have a second shot? Dr. Zelenka reports that the fallout from the destruction of the first ship has obscured our sensors for a small amount of time."

McKay glanced at the plot and winced, "The remaining two ships have completed their course alteration and are accelerating toward the platform. They'll be able to fire at extreme range in approximately 1 minute and 40 seconds if they continue to accelerate at their current rate."

While McKay spoke with Dr. Weir and Col. Sumner, Miller had tapped his earpiece and was looking out of the viewport at the now quiet Ancient weapon platform. "Dr. Grodin, are you there?" After a moment, he tried, "Miss Burkle?"

There was a burst of static before Fred Burkle's voice rang into his ear, sans Texan accent. "I'm here, Lieutenant, however I'm afraid Dr. Grodin has been seriously wounded and requires medical treatment."

"How about you, Miss. Burkle?" Miller asked, frowning as he snapped his fingers at McKay to catch the Canadian's attention.

"I've suffered no harm, however I'm afraid the damage inflicted by the power surge after our first energy discharge might be irreparable," Burkle replied in a too-calm voice. "How much time do we have until the Wraith arrive?"

"1 minute and 20 seconds. I'll have Dr. McKay come out there and give you a hand in getting Grodin stowed away," Miller announced, ignoring McKay's glare.

There was a sigh of...annoyance? that rang in his earpiece. "You need not worry about Dr. Grodin, Lieutenant. Open the rear hatch and I'll drop him off."

"What?" McKay squawked. "What does that mean?"

"There is a chance that I might be able to salvage this weapon for an additional attempt, but Grodin will be unable to offer me any assistance," Illyria answered.

"What the hell are you talking about, Fred? We need to get out of here!" McKay shouted.

"My kind is not as fragile as yours; the only danger posed to me is that to my shell. Do not forget what I am, Dr. McKay. It is possible that my attempt to power the weapon will be able to afford me a measure of protection. Open the Puddle Jumper's hatch now."

Miller jabbed at the console and stood, dashing toward the rear entry only to halt in his tracks as Illyria held Grodin's over her shoulder. Without taking any care of his body, she shrugged him off and let his body land with a heavy 'thud' onto the Jumper's deck.

McKay hurriedly strapped the burned but living body of Peter Grodin into a chair with Miller's aid before both men turned to Illyria.

Illyria, and it _was_ Illyria, McKay realized, stared at them impassively through impossibly cold, blue eyes. "Go back to Atlantis and help the others. I will do what must be done. Advise Faith of my plan and advise her that if my shell survives the blast, I would rather not float in the vacuum of space for any longer than I have to."

Miller's nose wrinkled. "What does that mea—"

"Be quiet," Illyria snapped at the lieutenant. Her head turned back to McKay. "Go."

"Faith and Buffy wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself for them, not for anybody," Rodney said quietly.

Illyria's face was impassive, but there was a look in her eye that seemed to suggest she wasn't as unaffected as her words indicated. "As I previously stated, I am in no real danger. The worst I will suffer is a setback that costs me time. Leave, I will be unable to rejoin the Jumper until after the weapon has fired again and I do not believe I will have such time available. As for Faith...no, she would not want this, but I think she would understand this better than most."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Miller cried out.

McKay stared at Illyria for a second longer before nodded curtly and engaged the hatch over Miller's protests. "She's not human, Lieutenant, now get over it. We have 30 seconds before that Wraith start tearing this place apart. Take us out of here and get us to Atlantis as quickly as you can, Grodin is going to need some burn treatment."

Lt. Lou Miller stared at McKay and then at the door for a second longer before glaring at McKay. Settling back into the pilot seat, he reactivated the Jumper's cloaking mechanism and released the clamps that had held the Jumper in place with the satellite.

#

Illyria walked back into the satellite's control room and took a glance at the weapons panel.

20 seconds.

Everything she'd told McKay was true, but she hadn't really informed him that the possibility of acting as a conduit to balance out the violent power fluctuations might do more than "afford a measure of protection." Indeed, the chance that they might imbue her with enough energy to not only protect herself but also emerge with an even greater reservoir of power than before was not an opportunity to be wasted.

Cocking her head, she studied the leading vessel of the two remaining Hive ships. Destroying one wouldn't be difficult for as powerful as a weapon as this one, but the destruction of one Hive ship did little good for Atlantis when the remaining ship would pose an insurmountable threat on its own. If she could not destroy both ships, she must pursue an alternative course that provided a better outcome for Faith and the others. Her finger stilled over the keyboard as she considered her own rationale.

Should she care enough about the humans to attempt to save them? No, of course not. Indeed, humans living in the old city of the Alterans, _two_ Slayers among them? She should be satisfied with the thought that they might be destroyed by the Wraith. Her finger still hovered over the keys as she considered her conflict. A _moral_ conflict, she thought disgustedly.

 _They are your friends_ , a small, unwelcome voice echoed in her mind.

She slammed the mental door shut. _You are dead, Winifred Burkle, stay that way._

There was no mental response but she felt a warmth in her chest as images of she, Faith, and Buffy slaughtering the Wraith arose in her mind. This was followed by other images of Angel, Spike and...

 _Wes._

Illyria snapped her eyes open and straightened. She'd been infected by humanity but she hadn't thought it'd been so pervasive. She jabbed her finger down to discharge the weapon; it wasn't fully charged, but the surge of energy would come early enough that she was reasonably certain she could escape with her body intact.

Her finger remained immobile.

Though there was no air in her lungs to exhale, she let out a sigh. _Another_ disgusting mortal habit she'd managed to acquire. One of many, it would appear. The finger that'd been ready to press the single ignition key moved away and Illyria began quickly tapping in a series of commands into the console. When the system acknowledged her entry, she smiled in cold satisfaction as the automated sequence began a countdown.

Stepping away from the console, she walked without concert as showers of sparks rained down upon her until she found the relay that'd been burned out. Despite the burnout, the weapon had still been charging but the surge of power that accompanied the last discharge would likely rip the entire satellite apart. It just needed a little...grounding.

Five seconds until the Wraith were in range, ten until the satellite's weapon was charged.

Ripping off the protective metal covering, she found the two sections that had burnt out and tore those out as well, exposing the delicate wiring beneath that was sparking and glowing with heat. Letting go of her human visage, she grasped the failed connections that had weakened over thousands of years of neglect. The buzz of energy immediately coursed through her, seeming to vibrate within her being as she allowed herself to ground the two ends of the connection.

She recalled a religious adage that the worm, Teal'c, had uttered during one of their few encounters. At the time, it'd seemed yet another example of mortal, fatalistic idiocy but now...

Though there were none to hear her words, as she stared at the screen displaying the approaching Hive ship, she finally understood the meaning in Teal'c's words. "If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine," Illyria declared in a voice that was cold, implacable and merciless.

In her mind's eye, she could see energy forming around the Wraith's mounted energy batteries thousands of kilometers away. Those batteries quickly spat out a series of blue-violet bursts of light that whisked past the satellite without any effect.

A small chime gave her just enough time to prepare herself as energy surged into the connection, blossoming into a veritable maelstrom of power that she let flow into the satellite's power system, while taking every bit of energy that threatened to overload the system into herself.

It _burned_.

It shouldn't have, but it did, it _burned_ so much that she nearly cried out.

In the old days when she'd been at her most powerful state of existance, she could have been the target of one of the humans' nuclear blasts and shrugged it off, absorbing the energy and emerging even stronger than before. Now, she had to struggle not only to maintain the connection, but to stay unharmed while harnessing that energy for her own purpose. She gritted her teeth, a pointless human mannerism that she'd managed to adopt at some point, and concentrated on her task.

The satellite shuddered as a Wraith energy blast grazed the satellite's body.

She continued to let the power flow, more and more and more until...

Illyria felt as much as witnessed the green ray of energy lash out toward the advancing Hive ship. She could see the green beam lance into its engines, could practically taste the deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands of Wraith who'd perished by her actions. Though the ship had survived, her goal had been achieved and let the beam die down and accepted the rest of the residual energy into herself.

No sooner had she begun the process that the remaining, unharmed Hive ship rained down a flurry of violent energy blasts that tore off one wing of the satellite and soon another. A half-second later, a trio of blasts hit the main body of the platform, quickly followed by another half-dozen that resulted in a chain reaction of catastrophic explosions within the Alteran satellite.

Even from Lantea, the new star that soon blossomed into life could be seen, a white flare in the night sky that marked the destruction of the Alteran artifact at the hands of the Wraith.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hope everyone enjoyed. Once again, I apologize for the delay but I hope that what I posted made it worth it. It'll probably be at least another month until I release the next chapter, but that'll depend more on how progress with WotE is going. The next chapter is pretty much going to be all action, so there won't be much of a delay in struggling to come up with ideas.

 **Czech Translations:  
** _As always, my translations come from google. I try to keep it short and simple (and therefore more accurate), but I can never guarantee the translation. If you know the language and see an error, let me know!_

 _Fantastický!_ = Fantastic!  
 _Jsme v podnikání!_ = We're in business!  
 _Drž hubu!_ = Shut up!


	32. Hiatus

Alright folks, I have some bad news for you.

Unfortunately, the release of the next and final chapter has been delayed and I'm not sure I can really give you a firm estimate on when it will be released. I have **NOT** abandoned the story, but circumstances have made it difficult to put out as much material as before.

My position within the company I work for used to allow me to write periodically throughout the work day, enough to keep me on track and steadily pushing out material. However, the change to my hours that occurred a few months ago made that much more difficult. To compound that, I've been temporarily reassigned to another position, with duties that don't give me as much leeway as I used to have, so the amount of time I can actually spend on writing has been cut drastically.

Even worse, my newfound love for Game of Thrones fanfiction has consumed much of the free time I have left that I'd actually spend on writing.

So yeah, I'm sorry folks, but things are going to be slowed down/paused until such time as I have more time on my hands to write, but again, these stories are **NOT** cancelled and it will not be years and years until I release the next chapter.

Also, Stranger Things 2 came out recently and I watched that over the course of the week. Amazing, amazing, amazing.

 **—** **—** **—**

~~CzarZelinsky


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